Return of the King's Sister Part II
by Kelyse Llewes
Summary: Aranee left Minas Tirith to escape the feelings of helplessness that surrounded her there. But in Edoras she has been plagued with more than just those helpless feelings. Something else has sprung up in it's place. Nightmares and love haunt her now, not specifically in that order. Chapter 4 now posted! Please R&R! :
1. Edoras

**Chapter One: Edoras**

She woke abruptly from the same reoccurring dream she'd had for the past several months.

She was walking alone in a forest, shaded trees drifting past her, and fog looming about her bare feet. She would come to a clearing and within the clearing there was a small child. It was a boy, with dark brown hair, an oval face, and strong violet-blue eyes. She didn't understand the significance of the child but somewhere inside of her she knew that the boy was linked to her. His face would turn to stare at her and while he looked akin to an angel, she could feel the otherworld qualities residing within him. He bent back away from her to hide what he was doing. When she moved forward to see what he was doing his head would snap back to look at her and she froze. In his eyes she saw something—someone—familiar, and yet so strange.

It were those eyes that had haunted her dreams and each time prompted her awake, whether it was the middle of the night or early morning. She'd even tried a tincture to help her sleep more soundly, something she would rarely have done in the past. She thought about it time and again. It was as if being away from her home had made her mind restless and while her body had physically recovered from the weariness of war, her mind refused to recover.

She slipped out of her bed, pulled on her night cloak and drew herself up from the unpleasant slumber and nightmare altogether. She then wandered the corridors of Meduseld in search of some answers. She would not find them in anyone residing in the Hall, but she hoped to remove herself from one state of being to discover another state in another place. Sometimes walking aimlessly while working on a problem was the best way to solve it.

The fires of the hall were glowing red with embers. It was warm in the hall and so the fires hadn't been necessary at the dinner aside from cooking the meat and bringing light to the hall. She drifted through the empty hall towards the far right side where she knew a slip-door was and she could leave without drawing too much attention to herself. She didn't really want to be disturbed.

She exited the enclosed and fortified hall to stand on the parapet of stone that surrounded the vast building. From that vantage point she could see the village down below, the fields beyond that, and then the mountains bordering those fields. For miles and miles, Edoras had long been able to see its enemies as they approached. This was no different from Minas Tirith, but something about Edoras gave her a sense of being grounded to something. In Minas Tirith she had hoped to escape the people and man-made enclosures. Perhaps it was the white stone that she had disliked. Edoras was not like that. It was, despite being on a high hill, very rooted and for once she enjoyed being this close to the earth.

There was light to the east and the sun was rising. Soon the city would rise with it and begin the day.

"Aranee?"

She jumped slightly, placing a hand on her heart as she whirled around to see who had called her name. It was Éomer. He was plainly dressed in what she knew to be his bed clothes; a pair of dark brown breaches and a pale blue tunic. He didn't have his boots on however.

"You scared me," Aranee sighed.

"I apologize for the intrusion. I saw you leave and was compelled to follow." He came to stand beside her and smiled gently.

"Your compulsions where I am concerned are strange, Éomer."

"So you claim," he replied. He then took her hand in his and linking his fingers with hers, brought her hand up to his mouth for a small kiss. He did not release her hand when the kiss was over but Aranee didn't mind.

In the months that she had been at Edoras, trying to bring herself back to the way she had been before the war and before the attack on Aragorn as well as the loss of Arwen's child, Aranee had come to rely on Éomer a great deal.

"Was it the dream?" he asked her.

"Aye. It's always the same and always shakes me to my core in the same way. It's becoming a nuisance." Aranee leaned into Éomer, hoping to use some of his unyielding strength to power her soul.

"It does seem to trouble you so." He was silent for a time, trying to find the words to say to her. In the time since becoming king, as well as in the time that Aranee had been a guest of his hall, he had been patient, a skill he had never entirely learned to master. He refused to push or pull Aranee one way or the other. He would help her make the decision she wanted to make and when it was beneficial to her, he was overjoyed. His sister had advised him against pursuing Aranee, and while he outwardly had, he still held secret hopes that one day she would see him as he saw her. "What would you like to do today, my dear?" he asked, using one of the small endearments she had allowed him to use.

"Surely as the king you cannot take the day to entertain me, Éomer, and I wouldn't ask for it," she turned to smile at him, "no matter how I would wish it."

"Alas not the entire day," he replied, "but I do have some time. Would you like to go riding with me?"

While Aranee had never been good on a horse, living with the horse people of Rohan had enabled her to adapt fairly quickly. She was now an accomplished rider, thanks to Éowyn and Éomer who had both tutored her. She loved the feeling of the wind whipping through her hair, drawing the tendrils this way and that way, making her feel as light as a feather. Her horse, Leitha Fea, literally translated from Elfish into the words 'free spirit', which suited her very well.

"I would like that very much," she squeezed his hand that was still linked with hers and leant her head on his shoulder.

"As would I." They stood there for a few minutes, pondering the landscape. Éomer was focused entirely on the woman standing beside him, enjoying the feeling of having her near, as she had come to confide in him in the past few months. If Éowyn was not readily available or near at hand, Aranee would come to Éomer. He would listen intently and when she asked him "What should I do? he would reply in earnest, giving her the answer he thought fitting thought not necessarily the one she wanted to hear. She always said she valued his honesty and would perhaps squeeze his hand or kiss him on the cheek before she left to make the decision.

Aranee was thinking about how in such a short period of time Éomer had come to mean so much to her. Éowyn and Faramir, before leaving for Edoras, both warned her of his intentions and while that had frightened her at first, she needn't have worried. Éomer was as kind and as gracious as any man. He was perhaps now in second place in her heart beside Faramir. She would always have preferred to speak to Faramir about the things she was thinking, but as he was thousands of leagues away and messages back and forth were possible, they weren't always practical. And she had never been able to write things as well as she could tell them. But Éomer was, while not a brother to her, he was a dear friend whom she trusted and relied on very much. The intimacy that they had shared over time had brought them closer together. She was not ready to accept him fully in the role that he desire, and on the rare occasion would mention to her, he did not pry at her feelings and understood her well.

She found herself nodding to sleep on Éomer's shoulder and he must have noticed because he said, "Come, you need rest. We shall ride later when you feel up to it." She only shook her head in agreement and let him direct her back through the slip-door and back through the hall. Several serfs were about, setting the hall to rights after the night meal and readying it for the morning meal.

Éomer showed her to her room and rather than wait at the door as a gentleman would have done, he followed her inside. He had done it a few times before and while Aranee minded at times, this was not one of those times. She trusted him with her life and therefore also with her virtue. He would not assume anything of her character.

She slipped out of her night cloak and sat down on her bed gingerly, suddenly exhausted. "I hope I can rest without waking from the nightmare this time."

Éomer saw the frightened look on her face, and knowing how much this nightmare scared her he took a chance and dropping down to kneel before her, said, "Would you prefer if I stayed and when you woke again I would be here?"

Aranee looked down at him, wondering if he had said it as a jest, but when she met his eyes she saw only complete earnest. She knew he would gladly stay by her side to make sure she did not awake from her nightmare alone, but she would not allow him to single her out like that. She knew she had his affections, but she would not act on that offer, not even one as innocent and as noble as this. She shook her head, "No Éomer," she said. Her hand lifted inadvertently to his cheek, cupping it gently. The unspoken love between them was obvious but this was not what Aranee needed. "I will be fine on my own. I appreciate the offer though, and will remember it in the future, should I need it."

"Please do. You know I am at your service, Aranee. You need only to call and I will answer." Taking her hand from his face he kissed the back of it and rose, stopping briefly to plant a kiss on her forehead. "Get some rest. Riding later will take some strength out of you and we can't have you falling off your horse." His eyes sparkled as he smiled, lighting up his face, a look that Aranee adored.

She nodded, "I will rest."

He left the room and while there had been no conscious clenching of her heart to protect it from Éomer's affections, Aranee could feel a weight lifting from her chest. This was the reason she knew that she did not want a romantic entanglement with Éomer. While her body might enjoy the closeness with Éomer and she unloaded her mind to him regularly, she knew that she always had this barrier up when he was around. It was not impenetrable anymore, but most of his deeper affection bounced right off her, keeping her safe from being truly hurt. She was not strong enough inside to allow him in fully.

* * *

><p>Éowyn clutched the note to her bosom and lay back against her bed. She had only four letters from Faramir in all the eight months she had been back at Edoras. And while she had missed Edoras when she was in Minas Tirith, she had Faramir to comfort her and keep her company. Now that she had returned to Minas Tirith, while there was much to do, when she had a spare moment she could not stop thinking about him. He was on her mind when she fell asleep and when she woke again. The heartache was becoming unbearable. All she had were those four letters that he had written her.<p>

He had written her reasonably sized letters and they told of many changes in Minas Tirith in the months since she'd been home. They also expressed his feelings for her and how he missed her. They were mirrored thoughts of hers and now she found herself wishing to go back to the White City.

Perhaps she would go to Éomer and ask for leave to go back and visit Faramir. She wondered if he would agree to it. While he had been very kind and generous in other aspects of her life, she wondered as the new male head of the house, would he allow his sister to go and visit another man that was not her betrothed. Yet if she asked Faramir to come visit, she would feel guilty at asking him to abandon his duties. Besides, if she wrote him today the message would probably not reach him for a month, and then his response would take another month and it might say that he wasn't coming. Would she want to read such a letter?

"Oh I don't know what to do," she huffed aloud and threw aside her blankets and went through her morning ablutions to get dressed for the day.

She entered the hall to find it busy and full of people, as it had been every day since returning. There were countless things to do and people to answer to. At the end of each day she was worn through and could only fall back on her bed and drift to sleep thinking of Faramir.

She walked over and greeted her brother. "Morning Brother," she said cheerfully.

"Sister," he nodded. "Did you sleep well?"

"I did, thank you." She smiled and broke off a piece of bread from the loaf in front of her and her brother poured her a cup of honey mead. "What are your plans for the day?"

"Soren and Gili have requested an audience with me this morning, and this afternoon I plan to go riding with Aranee." Soren and Gili were high ranking captains of the Rohirrim that Éomer had entrusted a lot of responsibility once crowned king.

"Aranee, have you already spoken to her today? Is she awake?" Éowyn questioned as she looked about the hall for signs of her friend.

"I have spoken with her, in the early hours before the sun had risen." He turned his head to speak closer to Éowyn, "She had another nightmare in the night."

Éowyn's brow furrowed. She knew only too well of the nightmare as Aranee had confided in her first before she went to Éomer. It was something that troubled Éowyn also because she saw that Aranee was rested enough after the attack on Aragorn, but this was something new that had risen in its stead. "Éomer, I have had a thought. Do you suppose that this dream is simply a manifest of Aranee's mind to keep her down? Perhaps it means nothing and it's just something her mind conjured to make her believe she is not strong enough to return to healing?"

"Her mind would do this unconsciously?" Éomer frowned.

"I believe it would. Her self-esteem after all that happened was so close to the ground that she might have imagined up something else for her to worry about as an excuse to stay and not return to Minas Tirith and her duties as a Healer."

"It is possible," Éomer conceded. "But what of the contents of the dream? How does her mind manifest such thoughts that it scares her so? Wouldn't she know she made it up and thus be unafraid of it?"

Éowyn shook her head, "No, her subconscious would bury the creation deeper than she could find it. But yes the contents of the dream startle me too. Somewhere within Aranee they mean something, but I haven't the slightest clue as to what they could mean." Lying to her brother was not an easy task, but in this instance she had to. Aranee had described the boy in the dream to Éowyn and while she hated to think about it, Éowyn thought that the dream boy could very easily be a vision of the child that Arwen had lost in the attempts to save Aragorn's life. This was probably why Aranee said she felt akin to the boy and yet he was so very strange to her at the same time.

Éowyn had been thinking this over the past month or so and hadn't yet brought it up with Aranee. She feared that Aranee might lose whatever progress she had made in the previous months and fall back into the exhaustion and self-depravity that had existed when she'd come to Edoras.

Both Éowyn and Éomer had seen how Aranee had wandered the unfamiliar halls of Meduseld and when she'd tired of the halls she would escape to the streets of Edoras among the people she did not know. She barely spoke to anyone during the first few weeks of her stay and it frightened Éowyn then as much as it did now to think of her going back to such a state.

"Do you think I should question her about the dream, perhaps on our ride?" Éomer asked, finishing the remains of his bread, cheese and mead.

Éowyn considered. She had seen how close he had gotten to Aranee but was still skeptical because of all Aranee had discussed with her. While she was fond of Éomer, Aranee had told Éowyn that she did not want the romantic entanglement yet. Even after eight months of being close to Éomer, there was still something holding her back. Éowyn hadn't asked her what was holding her back, but she suspected that Aranee would return that she didn't know. No matter how much Aranee told Éowyn, she always felt that she was holding something back. She held back from everyone, and while she had grown closer than Éowyn had expected to her brother, Aranee was still very private with her thoughts.

"I think you need to gauge that for yourself, Brother," Éowyn finally said. "Aranee is a very tender soul and the slightest thing could tip the balance for better or for worse. I know of only one person she would probably tell, and he is leagues away from here."

"Faramir," Éomer said knowingly. He knew how close the Captain of Gondor was with the Lady of the Mountain, and even now when Faramir was so far away, he still felt jealous. He nodded resolutely, "If I cannot discover anything then I shall send for him. I am sure that she would like to see him and he would help greatly, more so than either of us can."

Éowyn could not help the smile that spread across her face. If her brother sent for Faramir, then he was sure to come. Éomer would also send the fastest messenger and then she would not have to wait months for him to arrive.

Éomer saw the smile on his sister's face and a grin spread across his face as well. "I know that you too would enjoy having him close again."

Éowyn nodded, "Yes, I would."

"If his presence is necessary, then when he is here, I shall ask him his intentions, dear sister, and perhaps we shall have a wedding ceremony to celebrate in the near future."

Éowyn was not a shy person by nature, but having her brother talk about the idea of a marriage for her in the future brought a blush to her face that she had not known for quite some time. "I cannot deny that I do hope for it," she told him.

"Nor should you deny it. It's a very real possibility." He then stood and said, "I'll let you know what my course of action is before the day is out," and left the table to see to his kingly duties of the day, leaving Éowyn in a cloud of happiness and hope.

* * *

><p>Aranee woke for the second time and could not recall if she had had any dreams. She suspected that by not remembering if she had, she hadn't and for that she was grateful. She felt much more rested then the last time she'd woken which was also a good sign.<p>

She washed and dressed quickly, wanting to go out and find some food quickly. She was also looking forward to her ride with Éomer. It had been quite some time since she had been riding on the Riddermark and she was almost giddy thinking about it. There was something about riding that she felt instinctively freer and it gave her a moment to forget herself.

In her riding clothes, a pair of breaches underneath a dress that had been specially made with a slit down the front and back to allow her to ride astride her horse, she exited her room, making her way to the great hall. The pair of breaches underneath the dress were made of a tan-colored leather and her riding dress was a sky-blue color with long sleeves and a leather belt around her waist. She'd tied her hair back in a single braid for the time being, but she fully expected to pull the tie loose and let the wind whip through her hair once on her horse.

She entered the hall and greeted several people she had come to know since coming to visit. Though now that she thought about it, she rather lived here and it was not just a visit. She enjoyed being here, much more than she had enjoyed living in Minas Tirith. Perhaps it was because she only thought herself as a guest here and in Minas Tirith she had roles and responsibilities that many people counted on her for. There were still things expected of her here, but not as heavily weighted as in Minas Tirith. There were very few lives on the line in Edoras and Aranee liked it that way.

She ate what little she could, her appetite not quite back to what it used to be, she blamed the nightmares for that, and then exited the hall, heading in the direction of the stables. Even if Éomer was not around for their ride yet, she felt stronger near her beautiful bay. Walking down the steps of Meduseld was always rather tricky because they were very steep, but she managed and then made her way around the corner to the left to find the King's Stables.

She nodded to the Stable Master, Harrum, who was busy tending to another horse and made her way to Leitha Fea's stall. The horse could hear her coming and poked her head out to greet Aranee, nudging her nose against Aranee's hand and then coming to rest against the inner part of her shoulder, as if she were hugging her.

"Fea, you seem to have missed me," Aranee spoke to the gentle bay horse, who was a deep cinnamon brown color with a white-grey nose and white front legs. "I should not neglect you. I will try to make a visit to you every day, and a ride every other day, how does that sound?" Fea nodded her head up and down and whinnied happily. Aranee smiled widely and leaned her head against Fea's forehead briefly before turning to grab a brush from the stall wall. "I will brush you down before our ride today, and then after as well. Extra love for an extra special girl." Fea neighed appreciatively and Aranee went to work brushing her.

This is where Éomer found her half an hour later. She must have been quite into brushing Leitha because when he poked his head around the corner to see her, she jumped a little and let out a yip of surprise. "Éomer, you startled me," she said, holding a hand over her heart as it jumped frantically in her chest.

"My apologies. For that was not my intention."

"Of course not," Aranee conceded, setting the brush down. "Is your day clear now?"

He nodded, "I have taken care of all I can for the time being. Are you ready to go?"

"I have to saddle Fea, but then I will be."

"Oh please, allow me." He hefted Fea's saddle off the rack beside him and entered the stall. Aranee threw the blanket over her horse's back and then Éomer followed with the saddle and began adjusting the buckles and leather straps accordingly.

"When did you first learn to saddle a horse?" Aranee asked as she stood back and watched Éomer's fingers nimbly work over the saddle.

Éomer laughed, "I don't know if it was ever 'learning' as much as it was always in my blood to know how. As far back as I can remember I have known how to take care of a horse. I wonder at times if I am part horse myself."

"It must be a good feeling," Aranee said quietly, toying with the tips of her hair as she spoke, "to be a part of something and feel one with it so intricately."

Éomer's fingers stilled on the saddle and he looked back to where Aranee stood, her body closed in on itself, her head tilted down. He knew exactly what she was thinking and it tormented him as much as he was sure it tormented her. He hated seeing her run herself into the ground like this. She no longer felt like she had purpose and Éomer wanted, more than anything, a way to show her she was wrong. But as quickly as it had flashed across her person, it was gone and the wall that protected her was back.

He stepped back and held out his hand to her and she took it without hesitation. She did not need the assistance to get onto Fea, but she was grateful for the personal contact. She hooked her left foot in the stirrup and used the saddle horn and Éomer's shoulder to lift herself, throwing her right left over and settling in the saddle comfortably. "Are the stirrup's adjusted well enough?" Éomer asked, stepping back to look at her legs.

"Yes, they're fine," Aranee replied. "Thank you."

Éomer nodded. "You ride on out to the fields and I'll catch up with you. I know how anxious you are to start."

She did not have to be told twice and after Éomer had stepped out of the way, she kicked Fea lightly and started to trot, and then canter, and as she left the city of Edoras atop the hill, she was galloping as fast as Fea's legs would carry her. She reached up to her hair with one hand and undid the tie that fastened it in a braid, letting the wind whip the tendrils around in the breeze.

Éomer watched her go and moved over to his own horse, a brave war horse that had seen just as many battles as Éomer had. Éomer was mesmerized with Aranee and the way she rode. She took to it like a fish took to water and it make him smile knowing he had given her that small freedom in her life. Hooking his foot in the stirrup and throwing himself over the horse's back, he rode out to see how far she'd gotten in the mere minutes that had passed. Éomer didn't not have to even guess guess to know she was going to be a league away by now, racing around, trying to free herself from her own thoughts.


	2. Suffering and Healing

**Chapter Two: Suffering and Healing**

Aragorn stood at the large window, his feet spread apart and his hands clasped behind his back, at ease, wearing only his trousers, looking out over The Fields of Pelennor. They were lush and green, the spring rain having washed away the last traces of blood from the previous year. Slowly the land was coming back to life. In a few months time they would celebrate their first year of peace with a large festival on the Fields. He had plans to invite vendors from all across Middle Earth, people from all races, to come to this great seat of peace and rejoice in a full year without having to go to war. While his captains had been searching the Northlands for any rebellion activity and forcing out any who opposed Aragorn and still stood by Sauron, despite being utterly vanquished by the destruction of the One Ring. None of these rebel fleets put up much of a fight though, and quickly swore their fealty towards the new Kingdom.

His thoughts wandered as he stood there, as they did most mornings when he took the time to meditate. It had become a great source of power for him since healing from the near-death wound those months ago. The White Witch had given him the idea one morning while she had tended him. The first time he had attempted it made all the difference. He could feel the power surge back through him as he pondered the universe and the things that lay ahead of him. This included his beautiful wife, Arwen.

Arwen had been harmed greatly in the process of saving his life, and as a result had lost their baby. It had done more internal damage than had been expected. While Ninia had said plainly that she would be able to bear children once completely healed, there had already been two failed pregnancies and both Arwen and Aragorn were fearful of trying once again. Their fear was apparent to the White Witch and so she had prescribed a tonic for Arwen, advising her to take a spoonful twice a day, ingesting it fully into her system. She claimed that it would make her womb strong for bearing children. Aragorn hoped that this tonic would work, but still he steered clear of Arwen, afraid she would just be hurt again.

A hand on his shoulder drew him out of his thoughts and he turned to see Arwen standing there, having brought the sheet around herself instead of getting dressed. It was still early in the morning. "Are you well, my love?" she asked in her native elvish tongue.

"I am. I was just thinking." He took her hand and brought it to his lips and kissed it gently.

"Come back to bed, please," she said, tugging him with her back to the bed.

He went without a fight and as she wound the sheet from her body, he slid up beside her, adoring the warm feeling of her skin on his. She was frail however and as he wrapped his arms around her he could feel her shake gently. He looked down at her lovely face and saw the tears slid down her cheeks. "Oh don't cry, my darling. Please, you break my heart when you cry." He brushed the tears away with his thumbs.

"I cannot help it. I am sad. I do so want to give you children, Aragorn."

"We have time. You do not need to be so concerned about it right at this moment. I will live for decades more, as will you. Please stop crying."

"While you have no heirs though, your throne is in danger. The sooner you have a child the better." She turned then to face him, her hand coming up to cup his cheek. "I want to give you children."

He bent to kiss her delicate lips. "I know. But we won't worry about it right this second."

He was afraid for her. She had given herself up completely towards this task of giving him a child, and had forgotten than her duty was first to herself. If she was not well, then the child would not be well. "I have an idea," he ventured, pulling her closer to him. "Will you listen?"

"Of course."

"Let's stop trying." She opened her mouth to protest. "No, hear me out. Good things come to those who wait. I would like us to stop trying to make this happen and see if it just happens naturally, as it did the first time around."

"But the damage…"

"Will not matter if we have faith in ourselves, and the Gods above who have blessed us deeply with each other. I have you in my life, Arwen. That is more than I could hope for, and more than I dreamed of when I was younger. I have you. And you will always have me."

She smiled gingerly, allowing the thought to briefly fill her up. "I do have you. Very well, we will stop trying and let fate take its course."

* * *

><p>The elf leapt nimbly down off his horse, leaving Gimli to ride on the back solo while he guided them through the rocky terrain. While Gimli was small, a small slip on the horse's part could send the both of them flying over the edge and Legolas hated to think about that while they were so close to Minas Tirith once again.<p>

In the past months there had been rebel disturbances in the forests north of Minas Tirith and Aragorn had sent both Legolas and Gimli to use their influence and see to the matter. Never doubting his good friend, as well as his king, Legolas had taken up the task without hesitation. His duties previous had been boring him to an extent and he relished the chance to get out of the city and back to the forests where he felt more comfortable. The stone and gravel was elegant and beautiful but nothing like the simplicity of trees and moss.

So together, Gimli and Legolas had fought back some rebel forces, sometimes with force, whereas other times they listened to what Legolas had to say, on behalf of Aragorn of course. Aragorn was their king and while they did not respect him, some were open to the idea.

The nights in the forest were some of the most relaxing nights he could recall for a long time. He had always been a warrior, and now he found himself a peacemaker, asking others to answer the King's call for loyalty. But lying with the soft earth as his bed and the stars up above as his blanket, Legolas drew back from everything and his mind was at peace as well.

On more than once occasion however, Legolas found his mind drifting back to the last time he had spoken to her. She had pulled back from everyone when Aragorn was injured and Arwen lost her child, but he had not expected what her next move was. She had asked him for his strength and he gladly gave it, but then she withdrew from that too. She wanted to be completely alone and had even left Minas Tirith to get herself back together. And while Legolas respected her choice, he still hadn't understood it at the time, nor did it stop him from missing her on the many nights he spent in the wilderness.

He thought of the last time he had spoken to her; the time she had told him her decision to leave Minas Tirith…

_It was the first time she'd sought him out in a week. He knew that she had been avoiding him, but at the time had hoped that it was just the stress of Aragorn and Arwen. When she approached him then however, as he was seated on a window seat in the library, he could feel the waves of not only stress, but tension as well. She was about to give him some very bad news. He felt it in his elfish bones._

"_Legolas," she said to him softly, his gaze lifting to hers at the sound of her small voice. "I need to talk to you."_

_He nodded. He didn't want to hear it if it was bad news, but he would not deny her anything. She held some kind of power over him that made it impossible for him to refuse her. At times it was worrisome, but in her times of need he could tell she really counted on him to be there. _

"_May I sit down?" Aranee asked, gesturing to the bench where Legolas was sitting._

"_Of course," he shuffled over to allow her room to sit, never once taking his eyes off her weary face. She did not look at all like the woman he had met at Aragorn's coronation. She was a vibrant young lady with spirit and wit. The woman sitting in front of him now was still young, but she wore the test of time on her face, her eyes drooping from lack of sleep, her mouth in a tight line. _

_She sat there for a few minutes, chewing on her lips as she tried to find the words to start speaking. Legolas thought he would try to ease the tension by reaching out and touching her hands that were currently folded in her lap, twisting in her skirt, but she flinched when he moved and he froze. _

"_God, I'm sorry," she let out in a rush. "I didn't mean to flinch. I'm really not myself. I feel like I'm going to fall apart at the seams at any moment. Please forgive me?" _

_Legolas nodded, "Anything. But please, Aranee, don't leave me in the dark. I am worried about you and will do anything to help. You know that. You asked for my strength."_

"_I know I did. And that day I needed it, thank you. But now I need to find my own strength. So…" she took a deep breath, closed her eyes and then said, "I'm leaving Minas Tirith."_

_Feeling like someone had punched him in the gut, Legolas reeled back, "What?" He had not been expecting this. He had been prepared for her to say that what happened between them could go no further right now because she was so exhausted, but not this._

"_I'm leaving. I won't be back for at least eight months. I am going to Rohan with Éomer and Éowyn. They will not return for some time and I am resigned to going with them." _

_Legolas was at a loss for words for a few minutes. He went day to day just waiting to see Aranee, even if she did not speak to him. Not seeing her for eight months or more would be torture. Because he couldn't think of anything to say he did the only thing he thought might break the awkward silence; he reached out and rested a hand on her two folded ones in her lap._

_She continued to look down at her hands and only flinched slightly because she hadn't expected him to touch her. But instead of pulling away she took his one hand between both of hers. "This has nothing to do with you, Legolas. I need this time to get myself back on my feet; to work things out in my mind after everything that's happened."_

_For the first time in his life Legolas was speechless. He didn't know what to say to her. He understood that she needed her time and space, but hated to see her go. He couldn't imagine his life now without her. He stumbled over his words, "There's…there's nothing I can…"_

_She cut him off, "No, Legolas, there is nothing you can do to help me with this. My mind is made up." _

His heart clamped up at that moment and refused to open again. He didn't know if it would ever open again. Elves weren't prone to feelings this strong, especially about a mortal woman. But there was something about Aranee that twisted his very insides and inhibited his ability to think. He supposed that Aragorn had seen how forlorn he had been about Aranee's departure and had sent him and Gimli on their missions in the north.

It was, for the most part, successful in distracting him from the little time that he had spent with Aranee, but the nights when the air was cold and the stars were bright, he would stare up and his thoughts would again wander to the times when Aranee had been warm in his arms or looked up at him with sparkling eyes.

His mind snapped back to reality as one of the horse's hooves missed the ledge and twittered a bit, trying to jumped to the side only to come into contact with the mountain edge.

Gimli grabbed a hold of the saddle horn just in time. "Whoa, whoa! Who's idea was it ter come back down this-a-way, again?"

"Mine, Gimli. I understand it's precarious but it's the quickest way around the range back to Minas Tirith."

"You thought that coming back this way would be faster, I'll give you that. But we just survived eight months of rebels with nary a scratch, nor serious injury, so maybe coming back this way seems almost foolish. It does seem a little backwards."

Legolas shook his head. "If you'd like to see it that way that is your decision, but as soon as we round this bend we shall see Minas Tirith on the horizon and be back by nightfall.

"Are ye so eager to be back at the city then? I thought elves liked the wilderness and woodlands?" Gimli was teasing now, for he knew very well the reason they were rushing back to Minas Tirith. It had been eight months and in that time he had seen an unsettling unease come over the elf. He knew the cause of this unease as well, and it had nothing to do with the rebels they were facing.

"Elves find homes in many places, Dwarf, as you well know. I am sure Aragorn will find our return relieving however."

"Oh aye, he'll be relieved all went well while we were gone. Are ye expecting to see anyone else in particular?"

Legolas could hear the inflection in Gimli's voice and instead of giving him the satisfaction of a response, he picked up the pace and continued to lead the horse along the precarious path. It was true, he was hoping to see Aranee, but there was no guarantee that she'd returned from Rohan. He couldn't begin to understand what had transpired for her there, but he hoped deeply that she'd found exactly what she'd been looking for.

* * *

><p>The fields around her held such splendor that sometimes she even thought it might be a dream. But her dreams of late had not been so kind. She would be pleased to find these landscapes in her dreams. Instead the forests in her dreams haunted her. They were nothing like the land before her now, with rolling hills and tall grasses that swished back and forth with the strong winds that rose to the plains there.<p>

She sat atop her horse and her mind drifted as the wind would, over the plains and over the past eight months and then back to her life in Minas Tirith and all the people she had left there. Faramir popped to her thoughts instantly, and behind him was Legolas and then Aragorn. While she did miss Legolas and all his companionship, for it had been warm and compassionate, and her brother to know how he was doing, she missed Faramir the most. He was more a brother to her than Aragorn was and it was he who she most wished to see and speak to. There was just something there between them that had always been there and she longed for that connection again. She knew the feeling of the calloused skin on his hands brushing against her softer hands all too well and that was the familiarity she so wished for. Éomer, while a gentleman and good man in his own right, was a good substitute and she'd grown quite fond of him, would never replace Faramir. She would never allow him to either.

There was a plodding of horse hooves behind her and Éomer trotted up beside her just as she looked over her shoulder. "Enjoying the views?" Éomer asked.

"Always," she smiled back at him, which caused him to smile brightly in return.

"I enjoy seeing you smile," he countered.

She laughed briefly, "Why is that?"

He shook his head as his horse bristled and Éomer tried to keep him under control. "Because it means you have left the thoughts in your head and are just taking pleasure in your surroundings. It is my opinion that you should do so more often."

"Perhaps I should," she allowed and turned back to face the rolling hills.

"Let us walk," he said, urging his horse forward. She kept up a slow walk beside him on Fea. "Aranee, I must ask you something."

He sounded serious and so Aranee braced herself for what was to come. It was an automatic reaction now. "Yes?"

"Are you suffering?"

She was taken aback. "What? Why would you assume that?"

He was quiet for a moment, searching for the right words to say. He would not risk saying the wrong thing when the subject was this sensitive. "I think the world of you, you know this, but I can't help but noticing that you look as if you are running yourself into the ground even here, Aranee. Are you trying to sabotage yourself?"

Aranee remained quiet for a moment, considering the idea. She had never thought she might sabotage herself for any reason because she wanted most of all to be free of this exhaustion. "If I were, Éomer I do not think I would realize it. I want this to end. I want the nightmares to disappear, and I want my strength to return completely. I do not think that even subconsciously I am putting myself down, for whatever reasons my mind might come up with."

Éomer nodded. "I thought as much myself. Éowyn mentioned it this morning however and it seemed like an alternative I needed to pursue in order to be certain. I only worry about your well being, you know that?"

"I do know that," Aranee admitted, looking kindly at Éomer. "I know all that you feel for me Éomer. I don't think I shall forget."

"I see you get stronger, I see you go riding and wander among the people. I have seen you laugh since being here. You never did that when you first arrived. I do believe that this time here is working for you. I just wish there was more I could do for you."

Aranee shook her head, "There's nothing you can do. I feel better, even if it is only fractionally so. Only time and patience will work its magic on me because everything else I have tried. I have taken medicines and crushed herbs into my meals to see if it would make me feel better. And it does for a while. But I cannot become reliant on these remedies. I…" she paused momentarily, thinking back to her childhood. She recalled from the depths of her repressed memories a time when her mother had been reliant on such medicines. She then shook her head, "No, I will just have to continue on this path I have chosen, and hope it leads me out of the dark."

Éomer nodded his head reluctantly. He was glad to see she was not giving up, but at the same time he was upset that there was nothing more that he could do. He made up his mind then to send for Faramir; tell him what was going on, while not telling Aranee what he was planning. He did not want anything to hinder her from this self-healing she was on and her thought that maybe if she expected Faramir to come, she would halt the process unknowingly.

There was something that she had told him many months ago that had always stuck with him. It was the first time he'd had any real alone-time with her, when she'd showed him the Pool of _Bluemede._ She had told him: _"I have always believed in magic, Éomer. I use it, see it even, on a daily basis, the human body is capable of miraculous things. A wound can heal and leave the smallest trace of a scar of the most rugged gash. Humans are susceptible to disease and sickness and our white blood cells have the strength and know-how to fight them off. A woman's womb can create and carry a new life. Our bodies were designed to survive, to withstand so much. Magic has everything and then nothing to do with it. I am a healer who knows that."_

Éomer recalled how he'd seen her transform before his eyes at that moment, and he wished to see that again, and soon, for he could see that spirit within her dwindling, even if she'd come such a long way in eight months. While she could be healing the biggest wound, she could be gouging an even bigger one with her healing. He wanted to save her from doing that, and the only way he knew how was to call in reinforcements. Faramir would bring her back from the brink, he just knew it.


	3. A Little Faith

**Chapter Three: A Little Faith**

When Faramir received the summons from the Rohan King, he put his plans in motion to leave almost immediately. Éomer had been insistent that Aranee needed him greatly and so he went straight to Aragorn with the message still in hand and asked for permission to leave Minas Tirith for some time.

Aragorn was hesitant to answer however.

"You are Prince of Ithilien and the Captain of my Guard. I don't know if I can spare you this time Faramir, as much as I would like to give it to you."

Faramir frowned and considered getting angry for the briefest of moments. He also considered letting out Aranee's secret to her brother just to give him a reason to come along as well. Faramir had known Aranee since she was a small girl, they had grown up together and he would have done anything to go to her side this instant, except that. He would do anything for her and that also meant he would not betray her trust. She expected him to keep her secret about Aragorn being her older brother, and he would not use it in his selfish ways just to go and see her better again. But he had to go somehow.

It must have been written plainly on his face because when Faramir looked back at his king, his demeanor had changed. In the place of the king was a friend who understood such a need. "If you can find someone to manage your post for this time you are away, then you may go. I must approve them before you leave, but afterwards you are free to go. I can see it in your eyes that this news bothers you immensely. I would not want to deny you this, not as your friend and not as your king. Especially after all you have done for me." He placed his right hand on Faramir's shoulder and nodded his head. "Give my regards to Aranee, and my wishes that she gets better soon. I do not wish her any ill will and would have her recover soon."

Faramir nodded, "I will do my best, my Lord."

"I know you will."

Aragorn let Faramir go and Faramir headed towards the practice area within the palace yard in search of a man who would take over as Captain of the Guard temporarily. He could be gone as long as two months and he wanted to make sure he had the perfect man for the position.

He made the decision to take his second, Hemil, with him on the journey. But the next trustworthy man for the job was Amar, an experienced Lieutenant in his Guard. He made the arrangements quickly and then set out towards his room to pack his gear. It was still quite early in the morning and he wanted to get on the road as soon as possible.

While packing he went to his desk and grabbed the letters he'd received from Éowyn over the past eight months. He stuffed them in with his valuables, few of which he was taking because he didn't know how long he'd be away, nor what he would need while there. He assumed that his stay, having been invited by the King, would not be brief and he would not pay for his accommodations, but in the event that something happened, it was always a good idea to keep some of his precious wares on his person rather than left behind in the city. He paused momentarily to look over the letters.

It had been a hard eight months being away from Éowyn, but they were months that he would never regret. During the time she had been in Minas Tirith and they had been together they could have fooled themselves into thinking that what they had was not in fact love but rather an infatuation. But the months apart were testimony to the fact that their love was stronger than just an infatuation and he longed to have her back in his arms once again.

Along with the letters, he also retrieved from a very safe and secure spot in his room, in a small cubby hole secretly built into his four-poster bed, a ring case. He popped the latch on the front of the small box and saw nestled on the forest-green velvet, the ring that his mother had worn, given to her by his father. It was yellow-gold with blue and white jewels. The first time he'd seen Éowyn at the king's coronation his mind immediately jumped to this ring. Ever since that moment, and every passing minute that he spent with Éowyn, he thought that this ring would look beautiful on her small but very capable hands. He had seen her handle a sword better than most of his men at one point or another, and he would be very proud to see her wear the ring that his mother had worn while alive.

He knew that the sooner he left Minas Tirith and the faster he rode, the sooner he would be with Éowyn again, though that was not his main concern at the moment. Aranee was still as dear to him as a sister and he felt very protective of her and he also knew that Éowyn felt the same way about her.

Upon his departure, Ninia, the White Witch was there to greet him at the gates. She had in her hands a satchel and she was wringing the strap with both hands.

"My Lord Faramir!" she called out to him, thinking he would just pass her by, when in fact he knew to stop by the White Witch, should she be present. Her blessings were just as important as the King's, though held less regal authority.

"Ninia," he greeted her, hopping down off his horse quickly. "I must be brief. I wish to reach the Forests before the sun sets and that is quite a day's ride."

"I understand, m'Lord," she nodded her head and then held out the satchel. "Take this ter Aranee."

He needn't ask how she knew he was leaving to see her for it was irrelevant. She knew everything that happened within the White City. She was the Head of the Healers of Gondor, save for the King of course, but she was also the eyes and ears and knew all the comings and goings of its people.

"What is it?" he asked instead, inquiring about the contents of the satchel.

"Herbs. I know she does not wish ter be dependent on 'em, I know 'er better 'n she knows 'erself, but these herbs are not addictive as most are, and if she mixes 'em into a tea it will restore 'er mind to full strength in order for 'er to fix the problems 'erself rather than hiding 'er problems in the shadows and corners of 'er mind."

Faramir nodded once. "I will deliver them for you. Any message in particular you would like me to bring to her as well?"

Ninia shook her head, "Nay, she doesn't wish ter 'ear the rambling of an old woman like meself. You go ta 'er and she'll be righted. Take ma word fer it." Her witchy-blue eyes sparkling and twinkled and Faramir knew at once that she held wisdom enough to say something like that. She was not as wise as say, Gandalf, but Ninia knew more about the human condition than anyone else on this earth, he reckoned.

He lashed the satchel to his saddle, fastening it tightly so it didn't bump around and heaved himself up onto his horse once more. He looked back to where Ninia stood and she lifted her hand almost as if to point to him, but her aged fingers held no stress. She then brought those fingers into a fist and kissed them, closing her eyes as she said a silent prayer for the Prince of Ithilien. "Safe travels, Faramir," she said quietly, though loud enough for only Faramir to hear.

"Farewell, Ninia. Soon I'll return. I'll bring our girl back."

The corners of her mouth curled as Faramir rode out onto the Fields of Pelennor. He rode with a company of ten men, fast on their horses and once out a distance they turned and picked up their pace, racing now, with one destination in mind: Edoras.

* * *

><p>When Éomer told her the news of having sent for Faramir, Éowyn was both thrilled and scared at the same time. She was mostly scared for Aranee and what it might mean. But after a few minutes of thinking about it, she decided that the worrying was for naught. Faramir would have ventured to Edoras even if Aranee was not in danger.<p>

She was also little afraid of seeing him again after all this time. Eight months was not a great deal of time. She knew that some women went for years on end without seeing their betrothed while they procured their wealth in distant lands, and as it stood, Faramir was not yet her betrothed. There were no words of understanding between them save for the three that mattered most: I love you. Both had said it and both had meant it. She would gladly spend her life with Faramir, and she was a strong and headstrong woman, but this was one rule she would rather leave unbroken. She did not want to be the one to suggest marriage. She wanted Faramir to do so all on his own.

But still, in those eight months things had changed dramatically. Her brother was now king and she was mistress of the kingdom. She was the queen for all intents and purposes until Éomer took a bride and Éowyn saw no plans in the near future for him to do so. She no longer felt drawn to the battlefield as she had once. Where before she had wanted to die in battle, live for the valor and honor that battle would bring, she had now settled her mind, knowing that was not her course. She felt drawn to the more mothering side of her female nature, rather than the vivacious side that had driven her during the times of war. She wondered then if that change would deter Faramir. Had he fallen in love with that fearless and brave woman who craved the clashing of swords and horns of battle? She couldn't help but doubt all the affections, and in eight months, she wondered what his coming would mean in their relationship. She knew he came for Aranee, but she was certain that he did come for her as well, he said as much in his letters.

"You look deep in thought," a familiar voice came from the doorway of her bedroom where she sat clutching the letters that Faramir had sent. She looked up to find Aranee standing there, a small smile lingering at the corner of her mouth.

"I am not a very deep thinker," Éowyn tried to defer.

Aranee was more perceptive than that however, "He writes beautiful letters, doesn't he?"

Éowyn's smile flourished, "He really does. Has he written you?"

"Yes," Aranee nodded. "Each time you have received a letter, so too have I. He is very loyal to the people he loves."

"What has he said in the letters he sends you?" Éowyn asked, instantly curious, and without thinking whether it would be inappropriate to do so.

"He tells me of the castle mostly, and the people there. I was solitary in my life there, but I did pay attention to the people where I resided. They are a good, kind people, much like the men and women of Rohan. I have a deeper seated connection with those of the White City though. Most of those Faramir mentions in his letters are men who I served as Healer, mending their battle wounds."

"And most are well?"

Aranee smiled, "Aye, all accounts tell as much." Her head dropped then as she said, "He recounts that Aragorn is also well."

All thoughts of Faramir forgotten, Éowyn beckoned Aranee to come sit beside her. Once she did, Éowyn reached to place her hand on her friends'. "You did know he would regain his strength, didn't you? He is a strong man."

"I know that," Aranee conceded, and Éowyn could tell that there was sincerity in the words. "I sometimes wonder at his getting all the strength in the family."

Éowyn shook her head, "It is not so. I have seen such strength in both of you. And it is the same strength, believe it or not. Yes he may be more physically capable of certain things but that is not the strength that I see. It is the strength of heart that you both have inside you. You fight back evils within that would otherwise drown you. Recall that Aragorn fought his battle against Sauron and the Ring, resisting its temptation."

Aranee paused to remember. She had not known him then, but in the months that she had lived under his rule before the attack, she had heard many tales, both from those closest to Aragorn, and within the city about how he had struggled so with the One Ring. She did not see herself resisting such a temptation if she were in his place at the time.

It was as if Éowyn could hear her thoughts because she began shaking her head, "Don't you dare say that you would not have had the same strength and courage, because it's a blatant lie. You've got to stop lying to yourself, Aranee. You are much stronger than you think. Give yourself more credit."

"I just don't know Éowyn," Aranee said, throwing her hands into the air. "I am unsure of so many things right now."

Éowyn's smile soothed Aranee's frustration only minimally. "I know. I can see it tormenting you every day. But sometimes I think one has to tear themselves to the very ground before a rebuild is even considered. There was plenty of damage that had been done, not only with Aragorn's attack but also with the years of war that had waged before. Your soul needs mending and only time can do that."

"You have that much faith in me?"

"Of course I do," Éowyn exclaimed. She reached forward to embrace her friend, hoping that the momentary contact would help even the smallest amount. "I have all the faith in the world in you, Aranee. So many people believe in you. We just want you to have a little faith in yourself as well."

"Éomer…"

"Has more faith in you than all of us," Éowyn interrupted. "He dotes on you so, and it is his love and affection that holds him true in your favor. I have never seen him so enamored before Aranee."

"You've never told me that before," Aranee seemed taken aback from the news.

"You have never needed to hear it before," Éowyn admitted. "I'm sure if you opened yourself up just a little bit; let him slip past those defenses you've built so well, you'd see it for yourself that he thinks the world of you."

Hearing Éowyn say the words made them seem even more real than they ever had when Éomer claimed affection for her. She understood he felt strongly for her, but never this much. That Éowyn noticed the change in her brother made it that much more potent. She had felt him beating at the walls around his heart for so long, and not once had she let him in as anything more than a good friend.

"I'm going to find him," Aranee decided, standing suddenly. She turned back to look at Éowyn, "Thank you!"

She rushed off before Éowyn could speak another word. She sat there smiling at her friend, hurrying off towards her brother to tell him that his affections were welcomed. Éowyn was glad for her. Perhaps this was something that could help Aranee, if only temporarily at that. She had long thought that her brother's attention towards Aranee was inappropriate and not what Aranee needed at the moment. But after seeing how Aranee had lit up Éowyn was not so sure. It looked to her that this was exactly the distraction that Aranee needed to start building herself back up again.

* * *

><p>It was a difficult task for a king to procure a few minutes to himself in his busy day, and yet Éomer would definitely call this a small accomplishment. He had snuck to the kitchens for a few minutes when no one was there, stealing himself a slice of fresh baked bread and honey mead ale. He knew the moments were not to last, he enjoyed them while they lingered.<p>

"Éomer!" he heard a voice calling and guiltily hid the half-eaten slice of bread behind his back and turned towards the door where the voice was coming from. He did not know if it was Eryna, the cook who had spent all day baking this delicious bread.

The voice called again and this time he recognized the caller and his face lit. It was rare that she would seek him out with such exuberance. "In here!" he called back.

When she came into the room he immediately felt her energy. It had been many months since he'd felt this. "Aranee," he breathed.

"Éomer, I have been looking for you."

"You needn't have looked far."

She bent her head, "I know. I did not know how busy you were."

He took the slice of bread from behind his back, "You caught me at a most opportune time then, milady."

Aranee noticed the wicked glare that he sent her and smiled. "Is that fresh today? You know how Eryna is with her baked goods, even with the king."

"Are you going to tattle on me?" he joked.

She laughed, "No, I won't tell anyone."

"Good. Now that that's settled, what is it you needed me for? Please do not say you wish me to do heavy lifting."

"Why on earth…?" she frowned.

"I'm teasing, Aranee. Please tell me what it is on your mind."

Aranee closed her eyes and took a deep breath, hoping to inhale all the courage she needed to tell Éomer all she felt.

He looked at her closely. She was over-thinking something; he could sense it in her movements. He stepped forward, closer to her, and put his hands on her shoulders. "Aranee, whatever it is, just tell me, please."

She opened her eyes again and looked up at him, her eyes shining. It was not something he had seen for a long time. "Éomer, I spoke with your sister. She told me…she told me things I didn't know before. All that she told me has enabled me to rethink…things."

"Oh? What things are these then?" His head and heart were battling with one another. His heart was hoping and his head was telling him not to hope for it would only end badly.

She looked directly ahead of her, eyes level with his throat. She reached up to pull idly at the buttons on his tunic and then looked back to his face. She smiled, no longer thinking she needed to speak her thoughts. If Éomer knew her at all, and he claimed he knew her very well, he would understand.

He did understand, and he understood well. His head had battled needlessly. She had finally decided to let him in as he wished. He lifted his right hand to cup her cheek gently. "Aranee, are you certain this is what you want?" He didn't want to hesitate and give her the chance to change her mind, but he had learned early in their friendship that she would not be forced into anything.

Her smile did not falter after the question, nor did it after she spoke. "I want to try Éomer. I don't want to make any promises, but I feel like this is as good a place to start as any. I know how you feel about me, and I want to take this chance."

"I have never made it a secret; the way I feel about you, Aranee. But, if I may finally ask, how do you feel about me? I don't want you doing this because it will appease my inner wants and desires."

She shook her head. "You know I would never do that, Éomer. I wouldn't do this unless it was what I wanted."

"Of course, how silly of me," Éomer smiled. "I should have realized."

"And you should also know how I feel about you. Are you saying you do not?"

She was extremely close now, her chest touching his, and he still held one hand on her shoulder and the other cupping her cheek. "I do not need to hear the words, no." He bent his head and she leaned up, their lips met and the world stood still.

Unlike before, she did not pull back from him, but instead she welcomed his touch. Éomer wrapped his arms around her and she reached up and wrapped her arms around his neck. It was everything he had imagined and gave him such a feeling of elation and happiness that he feared he would burst.

Aranee could feel the butterflies fluttering around in her stomach calm and fill her up with such an unknown feeling that at first it scared her. But soon the feeling was over and she just enjoyed the sensation of being in his arms and being his for the first time. She had kissed others; indeed she had kissed Legolas, which had been pleasurable at the time. But this was different. She knew Éomer far more intimately and they had grown close and this seemed to just bring all the feelings together wonderfully.

"Ahem." Someone cleared their throat behind them and they broke the kiss to look to the door.

Éomer's previous feelings of happiness were momentarily interrupted by the man standing in the door. His arrival had been imminent, but Éomer had not expected him this soon. He looked from the man in the door to Aranee however and all negative thoughts were washed away. The look on her face as she laid her eyes on the man in the door was bright and luminous and full of love. This was a look he could get used to on her.

"I see I have come too late then," the man said lightly. "By the looks of things my presence is not needed any longer." He smiled brightly and his eyes twinkled with laughter.

"Faramir," Aranee breathed once and then ran towards him, leaping and wrapping her arms tight around him.


	4. A Welcome Surprise

**Chapter Four: A Welcome Surprise**

Faramir wrapped his arms around Aranee in return, as a brother would a sister he hasn't seen in a long time. It was nowhere near the passionate embrace that Éomer had just held with her, and yet still somewhere inside him, Éomer was jealous. Aranee hadn't thought twice about moving from his arms and into those of Faramir. He knew it was irrational and unreasonable after what they'd just shared. Combined with his knowledge of the relationship Faramir and Aranee shared it was just downright foolish to feel jealous. It was apparent in his face, the way that Faramir looked down at Aranee not with passion or lust, but with compassion and pure love, akin to the feelings that Éomer carried for his own sister, Éowyn.

He stood for a few minutes and when Aranee did not immediately release Faramir he cleared his throat, "I'll give you the room. Have your men been tended to?"

Faramir glanced up and nodded. "We were well received. My men are in the dining hall resting. We had a long and fast ride."

"I had best go out and greet them. Thank you for coming so swiftly."

At the words Aranee's head popped up from where it rested on Faramir's chest and she turned slightly to look back at Éomer. She did not release Faramir however. "You sent for him? For me?"

He nodded his head once.

He could see the tears welling up in her eyes and he stepped forward, taking her free hand in his, squeezing it for reassurance. "You needed him."

Aranee glanced from Éomer to Faramir, who stood silently witnessing the exchange. She felt no shame in sharing her feelings for Éomer in front of the man whom she considered her brother. She didn't want Éomer to think she was ungrateful, so she stepped out of Faramir's embrace for a few seconds, stood on her tippy toes and placed a delicate kiss on Éomer's lips. "Thank you, so much."

He inclined his head and smiled. "My lady." He stepped back from her, letting her go back to Faramir. "I'll leave you two to your privacy now. I am sure you have much to say to one another. I shall also arrange for rooms to be made up for you and your men, Faramir."

"Much obliged, My Lord," Faramir reached forward to shake Éomer's hand.

Éomer took the man's hand, "Éomer. We have shared far too much to use formalities now Faramir."

Faramir nodded agreement and both men's gaze dropped to Aranee who closer to Faramir, watching the two, smiling. Éomer turned and left the room and Aranee turned back to step within Faramir's embrace. He chuckled lightly as she wrapped her arms around his torso and squeezed, hard.

"'Nee, oh how I have missed you." He reached for her shoulders and pushed her back gently. "Let me look at you." She shook her hair back from her face and let him look at her. "You don't look too bad."

She laughed, "What did you expect? To find me thin, sallow and pale?"

"No," he laughed in return. "But when I received Éomer's letter I feared the worst. I know now that I needn't have worried at all. Kissing the king, little one?"

She blushed, "A recent development, Captain, so recent in fact that if you had walked into this room ten minutes earlier it would have ceased to exist entirely."

"And yet it has happened now." His eyebrow quirked slightly.

She nodded, "And if with the way I feel and the way I know Éomer feels, I don't see it stopping. He loves me Faramir."

"He does," Faramir confirmed. "That much was clear in his letter to me. His concern for you was as plain as if I'd been staring him in the face. Despite it being an official edict, it was much too personal for me to doubt his feelings for you 'Nee. But you, what are your feelings for him? Have they grown?"

"Have I not said as much in my letters?" she frowned.

"Yes, you have, but I'd like to hear the words from your mouth. It'll make it all the more real."

His eyes sparkled when he spoke and Aranee's heart melted a little bit more. She had never been able to refuse Faramir anything. "Can we speak somewhere more private than the kitchen?" she asked, noticing a few more people wandering around now, gathering food and drink for Faramir's men.

"Of course. Outside?"

"No," she shook her head, "that's not private enough." She turned, taking his hand in hers and exited the kitchen and turned down the hall away from the dining hall and kitchens, toward the bed chambers.

Aranee slipped inside her own bed chamber, or at least the one she had been given since living with Éomer and Éowyn. It was simple and suited her needs but was nothing like the living quarters that she had at Minas Tirith. It was smaller and warmer, whereas her seat above the city was a large cavernous room with white-washed walls and tapestries hung to making it seem cozier.

Inside she moved to the two chairs by the stone fireplace at the far side of the room, stoking the fire and putting a few pieces on. It was not winter anymore but cold bite still hung in the air at times.

"You surprise me madam, bringing an unmarried man back to your bed chamber."

Faramir's smart remark earned him a raised eyebrow and a smile from Aranee but she didn't say anything in response as she plumped the chair pillows. She didn't say anything until she sat down. "Good sir, I'll have you know that this room is beside your dearest Éowyn's, so I would not say such things if I were you. She may not be in there at the moment, but she is likely to come flying in here at the slightest sound of your voice."

Faramir in turn raised his eyebrow, "Is that so?" he looked curiously towards the closed door that they'd both come through.

Aranee sighed, "You can go see her now if you want, Faramir. My answers will still be the same when you return."

He glanced back to her and looked stricken. "I'm sorry 'Nee. You're right. You were in my life first, and this visit is for you. Éowyn is a happy bonus."

"You're in love with her." It wasn't a question.

Still he confirmed it, "Yes, I am. Very much so. And do you love Éomer?"

Aranee smiled at the change in topic, getting them back on track. Faramir always was good at taking the direct approach when discussing things. She shook her head however, "I'm not in love with him. I care for him dearly, and I have grown to have great admiration for him. But I am not certain it is love."

Faramir frowned then crossed to sit opposite her in the chair that Éowyn had occupied in the months past, keeping Aranee company on the nights when she was lost and lonely. It was good to see Faramir sitting there; bringing many wonderful memories back to mind.

"You seem very certain of yourself, 'Nee, but I am led to believe by Éomer's letter just weeks ago that this is a recent development. What happened to change how you felt?"

"I hardly know, Faramir. I assure you that there is some logic somewhere that explains this feeling and these actions, but I cannot find them right now." She looked bemused and smiled brightly. "I cannot explain this elated feeling I have right now. It's like for the past few months I've been weighted down by something that is suddenly gone and it has to do with Éomer and…" She paused.

"And what?"

She sighed, "And being in his arms felt so wonderful; as if I could let him have everything that was worrying me and he would protect me."

Faramir smiled. "I'm so glad for you 'Nee." He leaned forward and took her hands in his. "What is still worrying you though? He cannot protect you from yourself, and I'm sorry to say this but I have always been honest with you, whatever is bothering you is self-inflicted."

Aranee's smile faded and she jerked her hands back and then to her feet. She walked around her chair. Even in the dim-lit room, Faramir could see the emotions play across her face; despair, anger, sadness, and loneliness.

"I am sorry Aranee," he whispered.

She turned away from him so he could no longer see her face. He knew her well enough to know though that she did not really want him to leave her alone. So he stood and walked around to where she was standing, bringing his hands to her shoulders and bringing her close to him. She tucked her head under his chin and latched onto him, squeezing tightly. He did not let go.

"I hate to be the unwanted voice of reason," Faramir spoke gently. "You have always been strong, Aranee. I just do not believe you should rely on someone else for your strength. Let Éomer be the helping hand, but he cannot be your strength."

Aranee took a deep breath and sighed. "Is it not enough that I've stood on my own for all these years? Why is it not acceptable for me to just let someone else bear the load for a while?"

Faramir chuckled, "I didn't say it wasn't acceptable 'Nee. I think it's wonderful you are feeling like this. It's a beautiful feeling. I just don't want you to be broken again. You are fragile though. Let Éomer heal, but not become your strength."

"I know." She stepped out of his arms slightly, took his face in her hands, leaned up and gently kissed him. "You're so good to me. I'm so glad you're here."

He took each of her hands in his and kissed the backs of them, his eyes sparkling. "I am likewise glad. I am here for as long as you'd like me here."

She gave him a warm smile and once again took her seat by the fire. Faramir however, remained standing. She waved her hand towards him dismissively, "Go and see her Faramir. I can see it in your eyes, that longing."

"I came here at your behest," Faramir protested lamely.

"You came at Éomer's request," she shook her head. "You have seen me. I am fine. There is much to say but it can wait."

He gave her a knowing smile, leaned forward and planted a kiss on her forehead. "It is good to see you 'Nee."

She touched his cheek and smiled back. "I am so glad you are here."

He nodded and left the room. She slouched back in her chair, bringing her hand to her mouth to conceal the smile hidden there. Faramir was here. Éowyn would be so happy to see him. She was so happy to see him. She frowned. What exactly had Éomer said in his urgent letter to make Faramir drop all his duties and come to her side immediately?

* * *

><p>Faramir turned in the direction that Aranee had implied Éowyn's room lay. He came to the room next to Aranee's. Éowyn was not there. But Faramir knew instinctively that this room belonged to her. It was so plain, befitting the shield maiden of Rohan. He stood at the door for a few moments, already feeling at home so close to his beloved. A noise at the end of the hallway captured his attention and he turned to see Aranee fleeing her room. As she disappeared at the end of the corridor another figure entered, their head looking in the same direction as Faramir's. Her straw-colored hair was unmistakable, even in such a dim torch lit hallway.<p>

She shrugged her shoulders and then started towards him. Her eyes were on the floor for a few moments before she looked up and saw him standing there. Her eyes flashed fire and thunder. She broke out into a run and when her body slammed into his, he stumbled back but wrapped his arms around her, breathing deep the sweet hay scent she seemed to carry everywhere with her. He nuzzled himself into the crook between her shoulder and neck. It felt wonderful.

Éowyn could hardly breathe. She didn't know if she was going to laugh or cry. She almost felt as if she were going to do both. She pulled away reluctantly; she wanted to look at him. "You're here," she breathed. "You're really here."

"Did Éomer not tell you I was arriving?" Faramir frowned.

"He mentioned it but I did not expect you so soon. You must have ridden day and night."

"And then some," he smiled, cupping her cheek. "Éowyn…" his lips met hers gently and like the chinks of a lock, their bodies matched one another perfectly.

When their kiss broke Éowyn was blushing a deep shade of red and Faramir looked like a very satisfied man.

"Wait! Have you seen Aranee?" Éowyn cried, fixing him with a stern look.

He nodded, "I have seen her. We spoke briefly. She told me to come find you though."

"Why?"

"Because she knows me very well," he admitted. "And I think she is going to be quite alright."

"A brief conversation and you've already come to that decision?" she was skeptical.

He grinned, "It was not the conversation that changed my mind, but the embarrassing situation I caught her in moments before…with Éomer."

Éowyn balked. "With Éomer!"

"They were in quite the comfortable embrace. Something highly reminiscent of the embrace we just shared, if I were asked to make a comparison."

"What did she say when you asked her about it?" Éowyn prompted, taking his hand and drawing him into her room.

She settled herself into a chair by the window and he stood in front of her, his hands resting on his sword hilt.

"She avoided it for a few moments. She is still wary but considering the steps she has taken to open her heart to Éomer, I do believe she is recovering. I also brought herbs from the White Witch that she has instructed me to give to Aranee. I do not know if she will take them, but perhaps with Éomer's help…" his sentence trailed off.

"She does not like taking medicines for herself."

"I know," he concluded. "I was assured that they are just energy supplements. Ninia told me they would restore her strength in order for her to fix the rest of her problems."

Éowyn huffed. "Problems. She is not an invalid, despite all what we say about her. She is perfectly sound minded. I do wish there was another term for it."

"As do I. How be it we say she is just not herself. Tragedy and stressful situations have brought her to this state and all she requires is time to heal."

"It's been eight months, Faramir. How much longer will she not be herself?"

He shook his head, coming to kneel before her. He took her rough hands in his, "I cannot know. I will not abandon her though. Just as I will not abandon you. I cannot face another day not knowing Éowyn."

"Knowing what?" she looked momentarily shaken as his tone turned from concerned to passionate.

"I need to know you will be here. For all the rest of my days." His hand reached inside the pouch he wore at his belt. From it he withdrew a small velvet case and Éowyn's heart skipped a beat.

Her hand leapt to her mouth to hide her gasp. Faramir smiled.


	5. Aranee's Task

**Chapter Five: Aranee's Task**

Aranee didn't realize that she was screaming until someone was shaking her awake, jostling her shoulders violently and calling her name. Her eyes snapped open and she saw Faramir before her. Her breathing was rapid and her heart felt like it was going to fly out of her chest.

"'Nee, you were dreaming, it's alright." He pulled her up into his arms and she thankfully wrapped herself around him. She did not feel like crying for she didn't exactly recall the dream and yet instinctively she knew it was the same as it always had been. The brown-haired, violet-blue-eyed boy was still there, wandering around in the ethereal forest. She had begun to deduce in the last month or so that she was meant to help him somehow. But she still didn't know how to do that yet, or why. She would cry out in frustration in her dream and this would continue into her reality. This was not the first time she had woken screaming, but it was the first time Faramir had been there when she opened her eyes.

She clung to her friend, glad for the warmth of his body through the thin shift tunic he must've thrown over his head when he'd heard her. "I just can't figure it out, Faramir." She voiced her concerns for the boy to him on a previous night and between the two of them they could not come up with a solution. "He looks lost and angry and upset at the same time. I don't know what he wants. Every time I speak to him it's as if he does not know how to respond. Oh and his eyes, those eyes that haunt me are so familiar. I just don't know where I could have seen them before."

"You have seen many eyes in your life, 'Nee, you cannot be expected to remember every single pair."

"It's more than just my having seen them before. I _know_ them! It's someone…" she searched through the short list of people she was close to and with a sharp intake of breath she realized. "Aragorn…"

"Are they his eyes?" Faramir asked, holding her still as she began to shake all over again.

"No," she looked up at him, "no they're not his. They're his son's."

"His son?!" Faramir gasped. "His son has not yet been born. Arwen has not been able to bear children since…"

A tear slid from Aranee's eye and she tipped her head back to try and hold them back. "I know. How many miscarriages?"

Faramir shook his head, "I will not let you torture yourself by telling you."

"How many, Faramir!" She in turn grabbed his shoulders, squeezing his upper arms in the effort to make him tell, though it was not needed. He would never keep something like this from her. "You will not keep this from me while I have to power to fix it if I can. How many?"

"Two."

She blinked in despair. "That boy in my dreams…he is Aragorn's son. The only way this is going to be resolved is if I help him come to reality."

She pushed away from him and shoving the sheets back, got up abruptly. She paced the room a few times, Faramir watching her and shaking his head. He woke upon hearing her harsh moans but had sprung from his bed when she began screaming. Now watching her pace and bite her bottom lip she looked both adorable and slightly crazy.

"Can you do anything about it right now?" Faramir asked.

"No, I don't think so," she admitted.

"Why are you pacing then? You cannot worry about it right now."

She paused and looked at him. "I suppose. I need to find out what to do though. I need to think about this."

Faramir stood, took her shoulders in his hands and pulled her close. "I know. And you will. But this is a lot to absorb."

"Faramir," she nuzzled into his shoulder, "he's trapped. That little boy, my brother's son, is trapped and I need to find out how to save him."

"You know so little about this. I think you need to talk to someone who knows more about this world than you do."

"The only person who would know more about this is…Ninia."

"We leave for the festival in Minas Tirith in a few weeks. That is where the White Witch is…will you come with us?"

She had been asked a number of times. First by Éomer and then by Éowyn, and each time she had told them she'd think about it.

When Éomer had asked it was out on the hills. They'd walked out hand-in-hand in a perfectly peaceable silence. It was a few weeks after Aranee had decided to get involved with the King of Rohan. It was amazing how comfortable she felt with him. It was almost as comfortable as being around Faramir only there was another level of intimacy with Éomer that she enjoyed immensely. They laughed and teased and when they paused at the top of a knoll, they embraced. Yet when he brought up the Anniversary Festival she froze. Being in the capital which had always been her home was a startling thought now. She was used to being so calm and having no itinerary here. Minas Tirith would bring back so many responsibilities and obligations and people who she cared about and couldn't bear to let down a second time. It made her feel tense again.

She told him she would think about it. He didn't pressure her, which was sweet, but she could tell he expected a lot more from her.

Knowing these people who had become so close to her, and Faramir, would be leaving for the festival however, leaving her here alone, made the decision a little easier. Knowing Ninia was in Gondor miles away from here and that she was the only woman who could help her, the answer came to her. She would have to go. She couldn't stay buried in Edoras forever and her life truly was in Minas Tirith. Or at least it had been before Éomer. She frowned as she felt the horrible pressure again, knowing that being with Éomer meant taking his actions, thoughts and feelings into account before she made any decision. That was the choice one made when they enter into a relationship with someone such as Éomer.

"Éomer is going," she pulled away from Faramir again. His comforting arms had become restrictive. "Faramir, how could I have let this happen?"

"Éomer is a good man, 'Nee, you shouldn't worry about choosing wrong when it comes to him. He is a king."

"Being a king does not mean anything to me, Faramir!" her voice raised an octave when she spoke. "He is a man, and he is wonderful, but being with him means doing things by his standards because he is a king. I am not free to be myself when I am with him. Not anywhere but here at least. Sometimes not even here."

"What are you talking about?"

"Don't you see it? I have this task before me, things I need to fix. But if Éomer expects me to be with him, act a certain way because he is a king, I cannot comply. I never was good at obeying people; you know that better than most. I would live the remainder of my days here if I knew that I was free to be my own person with Éomer. But I can't."

He looked at her with sad eyes. "How do you know that? Aranee, people will always be looking to you for answers; they will always expect something of you, no matter where you go or who you are with. You cannot escape that."

"Oh but how I wish I could." Her arms flailed around her, sending the swirls of nightgown fabric up and down. She was so animated and somewhere Faramir found hope that his old Aranee was coming back to life. She was passionate about something at last. No more inactivity and mild indifference. This was something she desperately needed to do. "I need to talk to Éomer."

She started to make her way to the door. "'Nee!" Faramir cried out and sprung to stop her. "You're in your nightgown. Isn't that somewhat inappropriate to wander the halls so scantily clad?"

She gave him a look of frustration rather than relief that he'd reminded her of the fact. She didn't care however, for she retraced her steps to find her robe. She slipped into it deftly and then flew from the room again. He would have followed except he too was only wearing thin undergarments. Instead he made his way back to his room.

He was almost there when Éowyn's door swung open. Seeing her bed head, hair ruffled and eyes slightly squinted from just waking his heart skipped a beat. It was a sight unlike he had ever seen and something he longed to see again and again.

"Faramir?" she said sleepily. She registered her attire then after giving him the once over. She hid half behind her door and it made her blush. "I heard someone yelling. Was it Aranee? Her nightmares?"

He nodded his head, "Aye, I comforted her however. She had this revelation as well. She's run off to confront Éomer about it presently."

"It is not yet sun-up. Does she require his attention at once?"

He stepped to her door, dropping his face to hers. "She is single-minded unlike I have seen in a long time. Passionate and wild, she couldn't be stopped, so I let her flee. You can ask her yourself when it is a more suitable hour. Go back to sleep, my love." He brushed his lips to hers and then to her forehead.

She shook her head in agreement. "Of course. Are you returning to sleep as well?"

"I doubt I'll be able to. I am awake now, and my mind is running wild with thoughts." His smirk told her that it was not just about Aranee, but also of her. "Sleep well, Éowyn."

She shut the door behind her and when he returned to his room all was silent once more.

* * *

><p>Aranee knocked once, twice, three times on Éomer's door before slipping inside. They were quiet knocks as to not wake the entire household, though loud enough to rouse the king from his slumber. It was not a kind awakening however, for in his right hand was a long dagger, the blade glinting off what little dawn light peaked through the curtains at the window. "It's me," Aranee called out, not afraid of the dagger.<p>

"Aranee? Is something wrong?" He knew at this early hour something had to be wrong for her to come to his chamber. It was not something she had done before.

"I…I need to speak with you."

"Was it the nightmare?" he shifted into a more comfortable sitting position and lit a candle on the bedside table, depositing the dagger there as well. The bed sheets had fallen to his waist to reveal a bare chest that made Aranee pause a moment. She had seen many a male bare chest in her time as Healer, though most were bloody and torn open. His was neither bloody, nor torn open, and made feelings long since forgotten stir once more inside her. Éomer was a very attractive man. She took a deep breath as she came towards him.

"No. I mean yes, it was the nightmare, but that's not what I have come to discuss."

"Did you wake screaming again?" She had come to stand at the edge of his bed. He reached out with one hand to clasp hers and draw her to him.

"I did. Faramir shook me awake."

_Faramir_, thought the king. He was so close to Aranee that sometimes the jealousy was unbearable. Yet at the moment he felt thanks towards the Captain, for waking Aranee from something as terrible as the nightmare that she had described to him again and again. Something had to be done about it.

"What is it then, if not the dream?" he asked.

"The festival…when we return to Minas Tirith—"

"We?" he interrupted. "So you've decided then."

"Please don't say anything yet," she said, and at that Éomer could see how difficult this was for her. "When we return, what is my role…with you?"

He was taken aback. "I had not thought about it. I did not think you would want this to be public knowledge as of yet. I know you are a private person, Aranee, and I respect that privacy. I want you to do what feels comfortable to you."

She released the breath she had been holding since asking the question. He understood. She threw her arms around him, holding him close. "Thank you. Thank you so much."

He patted her hair and held her equally close. "You are an independent woman, Aranee. Your strength is returning to you and I would never dream of forcing your hand at anything. When we are in Minas Tirith you will be the Lady of the Mountain again. I will be the King of Rohan. We need not even see each other privately if that is your wish." His voice saddened at the words and Aranee knew how disheartening it was for him to say them. "My only desire is for you to be happy."

"I am happy, Éomer. I am endlessly happy with you." She looked into his eyes in the candlelight then and couldn't help but smile. "I know what I must do now."

"Do?" he frowned.

"The nightmares, they are a clue to my path. I know what my task is now. I cannot be all that you require of a queen," she said, lowering her gaze, embarrassed to say it. It was not a subject either of them had broached before. "Not yet."

"You need not be queen, Aranee," he comforted, smiling and lifting her chin so she would look at him. "I am not in need of someone who would take that role. I seek companionship and trust and understanding. I merely request all that we have now stays the same."

"It...I do not think it can be the same Éomer. Every day I feel stronger, not only for myself but also for you. I'm falling for you Éomer and I want your help with this task."

"I will do whatever you require of me. I am your humble servant," he bowed at the waist very low, almost placing his head in her lap. She entwined her fingers in his hair, feeling the silky smoothness.

"You could never be a servant, My Lord," she said when he rose again. "Not when I desire an equal."

Their lips met in a rush and then bodies pressed tightly to one another. They tumbled to the far side of the bed together, Aranee under Éomer's muscled figure, the sheet creating a barrier between them. The sleeve of her robe and nightgown had fallen, bearing her naked shoulder. It was intimate and sensual and unlike anything Éomer had ever seen. This woman was so attractive to him.

"Are you going to make me stop?" he asked, his voice quivering a bit as he stroked the lines of her skin from her neck to shoulder, not resisting the temptation there.

"Am I right to say you have lain with other women before?" she asked, knowing the answer.

"I have," he said quietly. "It has never meant so much to me before however, to know that this is everything you want. I will stop if you ask me."

"Éomer, I am no maid," she said, confident in her tone. "I have lain with men, some for love and some for pleasure. But, it has been a long time and I have never felt closer to another man than I do with you. As long as you will not renege on your previous statements by continuing on this course, I will not ask you to stop. I want this to happen as much as you."

His lips fell on hers again without a moment's hesitation. He was intrigued and captivated and she didn't think she had ever felt such understanding with another human being. Soon the sheet and clothes were both removed and nothing was a barrier any longer. Aranee dropped her final defense and trusted Éomer entirely. It continued well into the early hours of the morning and when finally they had exhausted each other with lust and pleasure they lay together, bodies pressed against one another again, sheets covering to their waists. Aranee nuzzled into Éomer's shoulder as he held her close.

She was tired and satisfied. "Éomer?"

"Hmm?"

"When we travel to Minas Tirith, I will reside in the castle. I will not retire to my room above the city. I want to be near you."

"I would like that," was all he could say, taking the moment to enjoy the feel of her body against his and inhale the sweet fragrance of her tussled hair.

"And when it is time to return, when my task is complete, I will take all my belongings and bring them to Edoras," she continued, her fingers stroking over his dark chest hairs.

"You mean to live here permanently?" he asked, taken of guard, but happily surprised.

"Not as a guest of the king, mind, I would live by my own means. But yes, this life suits me and I can provide services to your people as easily as those of Minas Tirith. My trade is transferable to any location."

Hearing her speak of her work once again lifted a weight from Éomer's chest and the joy spilled from his heart. At last a purpose had been rediscovered, and Aranee was finally healing. "This task you speak of? Will it require much effort on your part?"

"Oh aye," she replied, though he could hear the smile in her voice, "but there are those in Minas Tirith who can help, and I will not fail this time." She yawned and wiggled, sleep overtaking her. "I will not fail him this time."

"Him?" he asked, confused, however she did not reply. She had fallen fast asleep and with her warm body against his, he had little time to wonder, for he too fell asleep in mere moments. Contentment slid over the sleeping couple as they slept the pre-dawn hours away, together.


	6. Shadows and Clarity

**Chapter Six: Shadows and Clarity**

In the practice ring of the armoury, Aragorn felt his strength at last return to him. Swinging blades and delivering blows to opponents, he no longer felt weak and useless. His sparring partner had returned as well. Legolas had ridden in a few weeks earlier with news of the Northern Rebellion troops that were amassing. Aragorn felt little concern however. In a few days time the Anniversary Festival would take place and the people would be able to rejoice after a year free of war and the threat of utter domination from a foreign and evil force. He could save the Northern Rebellion for another time; they were not going anywhere, not when the entirety of the Gondor Army was sitting in the barracks of Minas Tirith. They would not dare.

He parried and blocked Legolas's swift Elfish swords and as time passed they were well matched once again and Aragorn had Legolas backing into a corner.

At the end of their session he lifted a dagger from his belt and threw it across the ring where it embedded itself in a wooden column. "My fingers at last have some countenance of strength in them," he remarked.

"You are not a young man, dear friend," Legolas replied, "Yet I do see a new man within you. You have suffered several brushes with death before and yet this very nearly killed you and your Beloved. How does the queen fair?"

Aragorn frowned, "She does not fair quite as well as me. I am everyday afraid for her. It seems as though she has lost much of the Elven power she once used to possess. Is this due to the loss of our child and three others, or is it simply because she chose a mortal life? I cannot say, but I do know that some light has gone out. Something must be done."

"Have you spoken with the White Witch about the matter?" Legolas asked, placing his swords back into their sheaths. He walked with Aragorn out of the armory towards his chamber. Legolas would return his weapons to the safety of his room. They were too precious to him to leave anywhere else.

"I have," Aragorn said, clearly frustrated, "and yet all she can provide are more tonics and salves for something we cannot see. However I do not think they are working as they should. It could very well be because Arwen is no longer Elf and somewhere between that race and humanity."

"Ninia is old and wise, Aragorn, I am sure she has thought of this and taken it into consideration with her herbs and medicines."

"I would imagine so," Aragorn conceded. "There must be an alternative."

Legolas could not help his mind wandering to where it did. "The festival is in a few days. Any word from the King of Rohan?"

Aragorn's head snapped to look at his friend, following his exact train of thought. "They are expected."

"If the Lady of the Mountain saved you from the black abyss Aragorn, perhaps there is a chance she can help Arwen."

"She is how Arwen fell into this state, Legolas," Aragorn growled, suddenly upset at the idea of something else going wrong because of this woman. "People would think me foolish for taking such a risk again. In any case, when Aranee left she was not half the woman she was when we arrived in the city. She lost something that night."

"Aye, and she left to Edoras to try and regain some of that strength, just as you have regained with time and practice. You cannot know all that has transpired. She may be a new woman, she may know of a remedy."

Aragorn nodded, as it was a possibility. Then he turned to his friend, knowing his thoughts on the woman in question. "What of your feelings for the lady?"

Legolas turned his head away, not wanting to look directly at the man, and wanting to avoid the question he asked. "It has been almost ten months since she left, and when she did there was no doubt as to her feelings of gratitude, but there was no more than that."

"I did not ask for you to recount her feelings, Legolas," Aragorn came to a halt in the throne room. "I asked for your feelings."

"I am indifferent," the elf replied quickly. "I am also quite certain that in the time she has spent on the Riddermark, she cannot have avoided Éomer and his attentions. She is a remarkable woman. I simply hope she has found some semblance of peace, wherever and with whomever she chooses."

"So gallant for an elf to say," the king replied. "There was always something different about her, I must admit. I would have welcomed her friendship had it been an option. She seems to be a most intriguing and like-minded woman."

Legolas's mind flashed to the hidden diary in Aranee's trunk. It had been something he'd read not to discover information, but find it he had. It was hard to envision Aragorn as a young boy growing up, yet he was certain that Aranee and her brother were no more than a few years apart. He could not tell that anymore than mortals could guess his age. If so, then Aranee had to be somewhere nearing the age of eighty. The elf blood in their veins was deceiving. Hopefully any man that took up with Aranee would be able to accept that.

"Yes," he agreed, "I firmly believe a friendship would have grown out of clear mutual respect and regard for the other, had things not turned out as they did."

"Many things would have come to pass had things not transpired as they did, my friend." The king took a hand and placed it on the opposite shoulder of his friend briefly, a sign of their decades of friendship, holding the knowledge that fate and destiny brought many things into a life that humanity could never have guessed. Aragorn was king because of choices he'd made as a younger man, an acquaintance he'd made with a certain wizard, and his decision to love an Elven princess far and beyond him.

He nodded his head and returned to his rooms where he found Arwen neatly propped against a pile of pillows. He bent to kiss her forehead and she smiled weakly. Something had to be done to alter what fate had brought his beautiful queen.

Legolas turned from the throne room to trace the steps to his quarters. There his thoughts drifted to Aranee, her endless grace and light, snuffed out much as Arwen's had. Perhaps if she had recovered then Arwen's life was not lost to the shades of the castle. Aranee, like her brother, would bring life back to this city.

* * *

><p>Éowyn smiled down at her left hand. There on the third finger rested the jewel encrusted ring that Faramir had presented to her, unabashed and full of hope and love. She always got a feeling like butterflies in her stomach whenever she looked at it, or when she saw Faramir across the room looking at her. It was easy to know that he was in love with her. She had seen betrothed couples before though it had been years since Rohan had experienced such a jovial union. Nothing of what she could remember as a child from the marriages at Edoras could be compared to what she felt for Faramir.<p>

Who then could she compare it to? This was the question she was pondering as she walked down the corridor from her bed chamber towards the main dining hall. It was early still, a few hours after seeing Faramir and hearing of Aranee's epiphany. She made her way to her brother's door then, wanting to know if the talk with Aranee had gone well. She would have asked Aranee, however she was not in her room.

She knocked on the king's door and stood back, waiting for him to bid her entrée. He was not a late sleeper and so she had no doubts he was simply preparing for the day. There was a shuffling noise behind the door and interest piqued, leaned forward to see what she could hear through the solid door, which was not a lot.

The door burst open then. "Oh," she gasped, seeing Éomer standing there as if he had only just risen. "It is past dawn Éomer, were you still abed?"

He blinked a few times before nodding, "Yes, I was asleep. I had a fitful night and thought another few hours would not hurt. What is it sister?"

She regrouped her thoughts, "I was wondering if you had talked to Aranee? Faramir mentioned she came to speak with you this morning."

"Indeed, she spoke with me," he replied bluntly.

"Do you know where she went to? I would like to talk to her."

"Did you check her chamber?" he asked, looking back and forth frantically.

"Aye, I did. I did so before coming to you. Is everything alright Éomer? You are acting rather odd. And why will you not let me pass? It is most unbecoming to speak in the hall in this manner."

He looked devious and in a flash Éowyn got an idea in her head that she could not shake. Yes Éomer was enamored with Aranee, that much was clear, however he was still a man, and a king. "Are you not by yourself?" Éowyn asked, both ashamed of her brother and furious at him. "Éomer! You have company, how could you?"

She was working up quite a fuss in the corridor. While it was mainly empty there were several household staff moving about their business. Then a voice came from within, female and familiar. "Let her come in Éomer, stop this nonsense."

Éomer closed his eyes in defeat before stepping back and letting Éowyn enter. There sitting on the opposite side of the bed, shrugging her arms into her robe, was Aranee.

"Aranee!" Éowyn exclaimed in shock. "What is the meaning of this?"

The door shut behind her. From the look on Éomer's face, half embarrassment and half annoyance, Aranee could tell he hadn't a clue how to handle this situation. Granted this was not something she had come across herself, but she was not ashamed of her behaviour. "Éowyn, calm down, there is nothing here to alarm yourself."

"Nothing to…" Éowyn was flustered but quickly recovered. "Do you mean to tell me that this is not what it seems? For this seems grossly inappropriate Aranee, do you know what this could mean for you? For my brother? Have you any idea—"

"Alright!" Aranee countered, interrupting her friend. "I am in no mood to be lectured to, Éowyn. While you are my friend and Éomer's sister, I do not have to take this from you. I understand the ramifications of my actions; I am old enough to realize these things."

"Old enough?" Éowyn stammered.

"Yes, old enough. I am more than twice your age!" Aranee burst out, her eyes shut and her fists clenched at her sides. Her eyes popped open then when she realized what she'd said.

"More than twice her age?" Éomer came to stand beside his sister, staring open-mouthed at the woman who had just shared his bed.

Éowyn's eyes widened as understanding dawned. Aranee had just unwittingly given away a major clue to her lineage. It was also understood that any hopes of hiding what she'd just said were dashed to pieces when Éomer spoke from behind her. "What do you mean, 'more than twice her age'?"

Aranee almost collapsed on the spot, falling to a puddle on the floor. Instead she had the common sense to back up and sit down on the bed. One problem was solved, Éowyn was no longer angry at her for sleeping with Éomer. Another problem was created and now she had to tell Éomer her secret as well. The list of people who did not know Aragorn was her brother was getting shorter.

"I am…slightly older than I appear."

"What does that mean?" Éomer questioned, his brows furrowing together.

"Why do you not sit, brother?" Éowyn attempted but failed to capture his attention. She almost wanted to shrug to Aranee and motion that she was on her own, but she would not abandon her friend, not when it was she who had pushed Aranee to blurt out this delicate information.

"It means," Aranee continued, "that while Faramir and myself grew up together, it would be more fitting to say that I raised him. I was younger, true, though not by human standards."

"I do not understand," Éomer's frown intensified.

"I am one of the Númenóreans, one of the last descendents. I am close to eighty. When Faramir was born I was just passing forty."

"That is impossible, there are none from Númenór left, save Aragorn—" It was there that his words faltered and when looking at her and thinking of Aragorn he happened upon the answer. "You…are the king's sister?"

She nodded, "I am."

"And I just…we just…I think I have to sit down." He stumbled over his words and found his way to a chair by the fireside. Éowyn stood awkwardly, not knowing who to comfort. Clearly Aranee was upset at having to tell her secret, while Éomer was startled at the news of said secret. She did not have to speculate long for soon Éomer's attention was brought on her. "Éowyn, you knew about this, didn't you?" He did not raise his hand but she could feel the implied finger pointing at her.

"I did. I have known for some time. I did not realize the exact meaning of her age until today however. It is so hard to tell when she looks as old as you or I."

"I suppose," Éomer conceded. "Will you leave for a moment Éowyn; I would like to talk privately with Aranee."

She bowed her head, tried to give Aranee an encouraging smile but failed, and exited the room.

Aranee made her way from the bed to stand beside Éomer. Her robe, which she'd been holding closed whilst Éowyn was present, had fallen open again. Her nightgown was not see-through, however Éomer had already seen what was beneath it and he clenched his fists knowing the secrets she had been keeping from him at the time.

"Éomer," she implored, "this does not have to change anything between us."

"I should have known something was amiss when you mentioned lying with other men. Why could you not tell me this before, Aranee?"

"There was never a need or a time to do so. I did not think it would matter. He does not know. Does this change how you feel about me?" She held her breath, hoping that recent events had not made her much more the fool. She had just given herself to this man and now there was a chance he could reject her. She would have to prove to him that this was not an issue between them. "Éomer, I am not one for begging, or obeying. I am an independent woman, you said so yourself. Knowing what you do now, you can realize I have been on my own for decades. I was twenty years alone when Faramir was finally born, as my mother passed in my twentieth year, and then another several decades before we could share the bond we have today. I have waited eighty years to share something, a piece of myself, as I have with you. Why can you not see that? These last few months and the months leading to my leaving Minas Tirith have been the hardest I have ever faced, including the months our lands were warring against evil." She knelt down beside his chair and he followed her face intently, hanging on her every word. "I have never shared, never wanted to share, anything as much as I want to share these things with you. Please believe I would have told you in time in my own way. I did not want you to find out like this."

"You are the king's sister—"

"I am not!" Aranee protested. "Until such a time as he learns of this fact, I am not of royal blood, therefore I do not need to be treated thusly. If I could make you forget the last few moments I would, but Éomer," she shifted to directly in front of him, taking his hand in hers, "I would not take back the last hours with you. They were the best of my life."

It was at those words that he cupped her cheek gently and bent to kiss her. He still needed time to process her words, but he knew for certain that her feelings for him were stronger than what she'd boasted before. This was more real than anything he'd ever known and he didn't intend to let things hinder their relationship.

She kissed him in return, moving gracefully from the floor before him to sitting on his lap, arms wrapped around his neck. His hands splayed wide over her back, hugging her close.

The kiss ended and she remained tight in his embrace. "You have much to tell," he said quietly.

She nodded. She was a very private person, it was in her upbringing and she didn't share with many people. Faramir alone knew the extent of her life for they had spent much time together in his youth and as he grew to manhood she knew he was someone whom she could trust. But if she wanted this, really wanted this magic with Éomer, then she would have to open up and this was easier said than done. She leaned back to look at him. "I'm not good at that, Éomer, so I need your patience, but I will tell you."

His hand brushed her cheek, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "Your strength returns more each day, Aranee. I have faith you will be true to your word."

He was very good to her and Aranee couldn't see that changing. Much had transpired in just a few hours and yet her connection to this man was seemingly infinite. He did not push, he did not pressure, and he was understanding and compassionate. Éomer was a great man. While this was not something she went looking for, knowing her fragility and low self-confidence after what happened with Aragorn, but she would not deny this bond with a great man who had the potential to make her a great woman. As she looked deep into his eyes she shocked herself when she saw the spark of his soul sparking and crackling. She made a small gasping noise but did not break his gaze. Then it dawned on her. "Of course."

"What?" he asked and their link broke.

Her smile spread though she said nothing. She rose quickly and turned towards the window. She drew the curtains back and let the morning sun shine through. In the light she looked down at her hands, touching her palms and turning them over to see the strength that lay in their grasp.

Éomer was confused and he came to stand beside her and watch as she looked at her hands. "Are you quite well?" he asked.

Aranee didn't stop smiling. "Yes." She could feel the energy pulsing through her veins and in a moment of brilliant clarity she raised both hands, palms out and pressed them against Éomer's chest. She did not physically push, but mentally let the newly found energy flow from her centre into Éomer. He felt it, his eyes popping and his body jolting. Aranee shook her head, "I don't know what happened. But I know what I have to do now. I know because of you."

"What was that?" he took her hands and held them close.

"Raw energy. Stolen and hidden deep inside me."

"Stolen?"

Her eyes turned solemn and contemplative. "Aragorn and Aranee. Unwittingly I drained Aranee of her Elvish energy in order to save Aragorn. I must have taken more than I needed and instead of the channel flowing back into her, the link was broken when…" Her expression turned sad at the memory.

"When what?"

She met his gaze and told him, "When the baby was ripped from her womb. I didn't return the energy because I never knew how. I didn't think I had the capability to connect with someone like that, in that way. Not until now."

"How do you give her back the energy without draining yourself or pushing her through a wall at the same time?" Éomer took her hands. "You nearly pushed me away with that little jolt. I can only imagine what the full force of this raw energy could do. Something was ripped when you unknowingly took it from Arwen, what if something is ripped from you in giving it back?"

Aranee had to give him credit. He saw the dangers in doing this far faster than she had. This was dangerous. How was she to know when it was time to give up in transferring the energy? Would she be able to stop herself just short of the limit, keeping herself intact while giving Arwen her life force back?

She looked up into Éomer's eyes, a withered look of uncertainty on her face. "I cannot know anything for certain," she told him. "But I have to try."

He pulled her closer, placing her hands back on his chest, embracing her tightly but gently. He wanted her to know he was there. He would always be there, no matter the consequences, no matter the secrets, no matter the dangers that came their way. "You are precious to me, Aranee. While I am still alive, no harm will come to you."

"You cannot protect me from myself," she murmured against his chest, nuzzling her head under his chin.

"No," he agreed as he kissed the top of her head, "but I can ground you to this world as nothing ever has before. You may have been with others but I do believe you have never been with someone like me."

The crackling of energy at her fingertips was just the beginning of her journey, but with those words from her lover and her friend, Aranee felt that she may make it after all.


	7. Past, Present , Future

**Chapter Seven: Past, Present, Future**

Sitting atop her horse on the crest just before the vast Fields of Pelennor gave Éowyn terrible flashbacks of the previous year listening to her uncle shout words of honor and valor to the thousands of men gathered to take back Middle Earth from the darkness. She'd sat clutching Merry to her, telling him to be brave, telling herself the same as she faced the hoards of Orcs and Uruk-hai soldiers. She felt a strange tremor course through her at the memory of battle and slaying of the Witch King of Angmar. She flexed her right hand, bringing it to her middle with her left. The wounds had healed but the phantom sensation still haunted her from time to time. She rubbed her hands together and then thought of another sensation; that of the ring on the ring finger of her left hand hidden beneath her riding gloves. She smiled and glanced to her right where the rest of her party also sat on their horses.

Behind them trailed horses and wagons carrying belongings and goods to be sold and dispersed during the festivities. Faramir controlled his restless horse. The horse knew he was nearly home. Éowyn smiled at him, taking the reins of her own horse and pressed her heels into his flanks. She shot off towards the White City hearing Faramir's cry of surprise behind her. Soon the beating of hooves sounded all around her as her brother, Aranee, Faramir and their armed guard chased after her.

The feeling of riding she imagined was akin to flying, and in this moment, knowing a future with Faramir would likely play out in the streets and halls of Minas Tirith, there was no greater feeling than that of flying home.

The gates were open and she slowed considerably but continued up the tiers of the city, followed closely by the others. She reached the top first, and out of breath and exhilarated she dismounted and collapsed in laughter on the green lawns surrounding the Citadel. She inhaled deeply, closing her eyes, allowing her senses to adjust.

She heard the crunch of horse hooves and then boots on gravel and finally a shadow blocked the bright sun from overtop of her. She opened her eyes to see Faramir smiling down at her. He held out his hand to help her rise, which she took immediately. He drew her to him and planted a quick and passionate kiss on her lips before whispering, "Mmm, home." She couldn't quite tell if he meant being back at Minas Tirith or in her arms. She didn't spend too much time pondering it though. It simply did not matter.

Looking to the Citadel Éowyn continued smiling as she saw the three men striding towards them. Or rather an elf, a dwarf, and a King striding towards them, for neither was merely a man.

While at that moment Éowyn would have liked nothing more than to stay with Faramir, her eyes immediately started searching for Aranee. She found her, but not where she should have been. Instead of with Éomer, Aranee had slipped away to the peak that overlooked the city. Her eyes connected with Faramir, briefly nodding her head in that direction and then she detached from his side to go to Aranee.

Faramir understood immediately and while he too would have gone to his friend, his duty remained in first greeting his king and seeing to the horses and their possessions.

Éowyn walked up behind Aranee slowly, not wanting to startle the woman. "Is it odd to be home?" she asked.

Aranee turned her head, her profile then visible to Éowyn. Her face was not grief-stricken as Éowyn had anticipated, but instead full of happiness and joy. She brushed her hands over the white marble stone. "It's been a long time. I've been to many corners of this earth Éowyn, over my many decades, but I'd never before left without knowing when I would return home. I told you that my stay at Edoras would not be a long visit but the simple truth was I really didn't feel I'd be well enough to return to this place for quite some time. This is sooner, more welcome and sweeter then I imagined."

"You are glad to be back." It wasn't a question.

She turned fully towards Éowyn. "I am. Glad to be back and glad to have a purpose once more." She had gone to Éowyn soon after her realization with Éomer. She knew she owed an apology for her actions with Éomer, even if he was King and needed no explanation for his actions. Aranee wanted to give her friend that simple courtesy and rebuild whatever trust had been lost. After the apology had been accepted Aranee proceeded to explain what she'd discovered and what she needed to do next. Éowyn had been supportive and had also seen the plain dangers as Éomer had. "It's going to be alright," Aranee had told her.

They walked back towards the Citadel together. The others were waiting for them, watching them as they approached. Aragorn inclined his head towards the two of them. "My ladies, welcome back to the Capital. I trust your journey was smooth." The ladies knew that his greeting was merely a nicety and the knowledge had already been given by the men. This was just public kingly manner that had to be upheld.

"It was," agreed Éowyn. She gave Aranee a twinkling look before moving to take Faramir's arm.

"How was your visit in Rohan, Milady?" Aragorn asked Aranee.

"It was peaceful, my lord. Exactly what the Healer ordered." She had a small urge to call him 'brother', but she restrained herself.

She looked at both Gimli to Aragorn's right and Legolas to his left. Her gaze lingered more on the elf. He was tall and lean and his piercing blue eyes were just as she remembered. She smiled warmly in his direction, knowing that there still lay unresolved feelings for both parties. She had hoped that her connection with Éomer would disintegrate those on her part, and yet she still felt some pull towards Legolas. She was tied to Éomer however, and so when he appeared beside her she immediately took his offered arm. She noticed Legolas's narrowed gaze at this but promptly ignored it. She looked at Éomer who smiled and placed his free hand over hers on his arm.

"You are weary," Aragorn commented. "You must rest until the meal time. I will have refreshments brought to you and your trunks delivered as soon as they arrive."

"Many thanks," Éomer started towards the Keep. "We appreciate the hospitality."

"And we appreciate the company, Éomer," Aragorn said, keeping his pace with the Horse King. "It has been some time since we dined together, since peace was the topic of conversation among friends. It will be most welcome. As are you."

* * *

><p>"I won't be long," Aranee told Éomer, kissing him on the forehead. She had gone back to his chambers with him, shrugged out of her riding clothes and into a gown of forest green behind a screen in the corner of the room. She then decided she needed to venture up the mountain. Her home was calling to her. Éomer kissed the back of her hand in response but said nothing. His silent understanding was a blessing. Aranee considered herself very lucky.<p>

She traced the halls to Faramir's room in a peaceable silence, sliding her hand across the marble walls, delighting in the feeling of being back in the White City. She arrived at Faramir's chamber, knocked and waited. She did not know if Éowyn had accompanied him back to his room as she had Éomer's. The door opened to reveal only Faramir, alone and stripped to casual clothing.

"Since when did you knock?" he asked as she passed.

"Since you became betrothed," she retorted with a wink. "Soon this room will be abandoned and you will both have a shared suite in the Keep. My best friend will have grown up and our childhood will really be over."

"Did you really consider yourself that much a child when I was born?" he asked, sitting down in a chair by his desk. They rarely discussed the age gap that separated them because it often led to a twinge of sadness for Aranee. She had been alone a long time before Faramir was born and she did not like remembering those years. Her mother had died and left her quite without anyone to guide her in the world. She stumbled as she traveled, an experience that would have gone smoother had she someone close to her to journey with. She did see some beautiful things and some terrible things too. But nothing was more majestic than the day she'd returned back to the White City and been told her old friend had given birth to a second son. Aranee had been blessed with an audience and took on the unofficial role of guardian, for she knew Finduilas, a dear friend to Aranee and her mother, would not live to see him into manhood.

"A babe," she replied honestly, "a babe who had yet to see the wonders of the world." She stood before him and cupped his bearded cheek. "I knew very little of this world until you came into it, Faramir. And I never really took pleasure in what the world had to offer until you showed me all there was worth seeing."

"Four decades and very little until the day I was born? I find that hard to believe."

"Believe it or not, it's the truth. You may be my best friend, dear one, but not very long ago I considered you my child. I am ever so glad to see the man you are, and the woman you have found to replace me."

At those words he rose and took her up in an embrace. "You can never be replaced, 'Nee. Not if I live to be a three hundred years old. You will always have a special place in my heart."

She hugged him in return. Faramir who yearned for knowledge, who was compassionate and loyal, trustworthy and duty-bound no matter the open favour his older brother received from their father. He became a great man, and Aranee hoped that it was in no small part due to her own friendship with him. Having a woman in a young boy's life makes all the difference.

"I came to climb the mountain," she told him then, ending their moment. They were precious and thankfully with Faramir, not rare, and so there was no need to drag it out. She knew she was loved by him if by no one else. "My things…"

"I understand. You took little with you on your stay in Rohan. Go, I'll still be here when you return."

She smiled and turned to the secret door that led to her mountain. She began the ascent and relished in the familiar feel of stone beneath her feet. As much as she enjoyed and marveled at the woodwork craftsmanship of the people of Rohan, it could not quite compare to the rock caverns of her home.

Her thoughts turned to Éomer then, a man who was King in his own right, her lover and a dear friend. There was a future with him, she could feel it. But being with him would mean being away from Minas Tirith. She would have to make Edoras her new home if she meant to stay with him. She was connected to him, that fact was unshakeable to her now. But this had been her home for a very long time. She knew she'd told Éomer that life in Edoras would suit her, but that was before she realized how much she'd needed the solitude of the tunnels and the quiet of the rocks of the mountain. She would no longer be the Lady of the Mountain. How was she to give that up?

* * *

><p>The meal was served and while Arwen was in attendance, Aranee could instinctively feel a change in her very aura. She looked down at her hands hidden in her lap at the moment. At the same time she could sense Arwen's discomfort, Aranee's hands crackled and sparked with tainted energy, stolen energy. This was not the energy to give the body strength, if so Aranee would have used it long ago to give herself strength. No, this was energy for the soul, a power source that gave purpose and brought the body to a spiritual state of wellness. Aranee felt guilty at unknowingly stealing such raw power from someone who was so dear to her own flesh and blood. Aragorn sat beside his Elven queen, partaking in the merriment of the feast but Aranee saw his thoughts were never far from the woman beside him. With a light touch of the hand on hers or a quick reassuring glance with a small smile, Aranee saw his concern as plainly as she saw and felt the energy residing within her.<p>

Her journey up the mountain had revealed many things to her, including an answer to the task she needed to undertake. The trip up and back was a good length and plenty of time to contemplate all the things that had been burdening her. Perhaps that was why in Edoras it had taken longer to heal, constantly surrounded with voices not her own. While it had given her many gifts, it had taken away the solitude she was familiar with.

Beside her now sat the very man responsible for those gifts. Éomer was jovial and laughing, delighting in the food and company. Aranee was obliged to engage in some conversation as well, though she could feel people tip-toeing around her, knowing how delicate she had been when she departed for Edoras. She felt no such delicacy now, but they did not know this, nor was she willing to share it. She sat back and watched, taking in the energy of the room, preparing herself for what was to come.

When the night was drawing to a close she felt tired but wonderful. She rose before the others, whispering to Éomer, who smiled and nodded, and then bidding good eve to Aragorn and those who remained. She walked slowly, wearily, to the room she was to share with Éomer. It was strange but she quite liked knowing she would not sleep alone. It was the one place where solitude was not welcome or required.

Footsteps behind her alerted her to the fact she had been followed. They were light and surefooted steps. Legolas.

"Master Elf," she said, coming to a pause in the corridor, turning to face him.

"My Lady of the Mountain," he inclined his head.

The formality was stifling. "Have you been well, Legolas?" she asked. "You look well, but then even ailing from injury you never looked any different."

He smiled. "I have been well, thank you for asking. You seem much yourself again."

She nodded. They continued to walk, taking the path towards her room. "I would not miss this festival, though I was not completely sure of my attending until a few weeks ago."

"Your mind was changed?" He did not pry or question what exactly changed her mind.

"It was, happily." Her thoughts turned to the last days she'd spent in Minas Tirith and how much she'd relied on Legolas's strength. Her mood turned somber. "I am forever grateful to you Legolas, for your continued belief in me. For all your help when I could not get by on my own."

"Everyone needs a shoulder to cry on and a helping hand to assist them from time to time." His response was so generic and stoic she almost believed his feelings had dissipated over the last several months. But the undertones of the conversation told her something else.

They arrived at the door to her shared chambers and as a woman of several decades she felt no shame in announcing that they'd arrived. As an elf of equal to greater age he had the propensity to act as if he did not notice this was her usual quarters or those of the King of Rohan. He said nothing and his face gave away nothing.

"Good night, Legolas," she said as she opened the door.

"Sleep well…Aranee," he bowed and turned up the hall.

She watched him go, knowing he would feel her gaze. He turned the corner and disappeared. She was shutting the door when Éomer emerged from the same corner, glancing at the Elf as he passed.

Something about the way Legolas acted around Aranee irked Éomer in a much different way than Faramir's presence always had. The way Aranee acted was just as irksome. His thoughts drifted to the first night he'd spent with her, her saying she'd lain with other men. He knew secrets were a woman's prerogative, but he would not have that secret staying hidden. He wanted to know her previous encounters and if it would still burden her feelings, hindering her from being totally his.

He entered the room and found her sitting on balcony railing, tipping over precariously, looking and seeing all that she could. His heart softened as he closed the door and went to her.

"It is a lot closer to the ground here than what I am accustomed to," her voice drifted back as he stepped closer. Her head swiveled and he could see a light in her eyes that spoke volumes to how much she had healed in only the past few weeks at his side. He moved behind her, allowing her back to rest on his chest as he brushed his hands up and down her arms gently. "I never really noticed how high and removed I was before. I had never lived anywhere else."

"Nowhere?" Éomer was more curious about her past now that he knew how much of it there was. "You must have traveled, Aranee."

"I did, you're right. I lived in the city until I was almost thirty though, first with my mother and then mourning my loss when she died. At Ninia's urgings I went with a group of Healers who were making a pilgrimage to the Grey Havens with the understanding that the elves were beginning to leave Middle Earth for Valinor. My mother had long been a friend of the elves, living in Rivendell when my brother was very young. Ninia knew this and knew being so close to the elves in the Grey Havens would either help or hinder my healing. As it turned out, it helped greatly."

"How much younger than your brother are you?" Éomer asked, trying to do the sums in his head but not coming to a logical conclusion.

"A little over a year," Aranee replied, thinking of the times she spent away from her mother. "Aragorn was taken to Elrond of Rivendell shortly after my father's passing, a year after I was born. He was given the name Estel and fostered under the close protection of Elrond. My mother has several journals and diaries that held Elrond's accounts of Aragorn's childhood. I know my mother went to Rivendell many times while Aragorn was still a child. I was left to my own devices, looked after by nursemaids, though when I was grown I went with my mother. I was never introduced to Aragorn though; she would always go separately from me. While I have been to Rivendell many times, while with my mother it was often when Aragorn was not there. I suppose she planned it that way. And for a brief time I lived in Eriador with her, those last years of her life. She spoke of Aragorn often."

"You have never spoken so well of him," Éomer observed.

"I have never been more compelled to call him my brother than I am here and now. I can only hope that when I tell of what I did to his wife, he will forgive my actions because I did what I did unknowingly."

"Blood forgives blood," Éomer commented, wrapping his arms around her tightly.

"Not always," she replied, her thoughts turning to Denethor and his persistent cold manner towards Faramir after Boromir died. Faramir so resembled his mother and was likely the very reason her strength waned after he was born. Denethor was much older than his wife and while he was reserved and quiet, it was evident he loved her very much. Knowing his son was the reason she lost such strength, Aranee doubted he forgave Faramir even at his demise.

Aranee sighed, not wanting to continue thinking of such morose things. Death and dying were the opposites of positive energies she needed to focus on. She and Éomer remained silent for some minutes, enjoying the views of the Fields and the lack of fiery lava that once emitted from beyond the Mountains of Shadow in the lands of Mordor. It was calm and peaceful and pleasant to simply sit in each other's arms with no immediate pending threats on their lives.

"Aranee?" Éomer's tone was slightly guarded and caught her attention instantly.

"What is it?"

"I have to ask. The elf, Legolas…did you…?" his sentence faltered. He didn't want to continue and accuse her of something of which he was not certain.

Aranee understood right away and turned in his arms to reply. "No Éomer, I have never been attached to Legolas as I have with you. It's true we did have encounters, but this was before." Éomer withdrew, his fists clenching and brow furrowed in frustration. He'd been afraid of this. "There have been times when I needed to rely on someone else's unshakeable strength. Most of the time it was Faramir, though when I saw him falling for your sister I could no longer impose that. We are friends but I will not jeopardize his relationships by asking him for something he is not willing to give. Legolas stood by me, holding my hand, wrapping me in his arms and reassuring me everything would be fine when I would much rather have hidden away in my mountain."

"Does he know about Aragorn?" he asked.

She shook her head, "Not to my knowledge. If he does, he did not hear it from me. The only people who know by my tongue are you and Éowyn."

He nodded, satisfied with her answer. "And tonight, did he talk to you?"

"He did, and I thanked him for his belief in me, no more and no less. He knows this is not my usual room; he knows I am with you. He could see it earlier in front of the Citadel when I took your arm. He has feelings but I do not reciprocate."

"Do I have your word?"

Aranee frowned. Jealousy did not become Éomer. "No," she said. "_I _have _your_ trust on this matter. That is all that you require." The conversation was closed. She was right, she gave Éomer full disclosure on the subject but in no way was she giving her word to something that was pointless. She had bigger things to worry about. She loved Éomer but she did not answer to him no matter their connection with one another. He was not her King.

She stood and walked back into the room. Untying the strings of her gown she let it slip to the floor, knowing full well Éomer was watching her every move. "Come to bed now." She wanted to leave him with no doubt of her feelings towards him and words obviously were not enough tonight. Éomer followed.


	8. Courage to Conquer

**Chapter Eight: Courage to Conquer**

She woke to find him gone from the bed. Shifting sleepily she stretched and yawned in an attempt to brush off the last of the drowsy nighttime feelings. Once again the little boy with violet-blue eyes came to her, running through a leafy forest that was so familiar and yet so alien to her. She ran her fingers through her hair and rolled over trying to shake the memory. She had wanted to ask the boy something – anything really, just to make sure what she was about to do would actually help him, but she was hesitant. This was something she had to do on her own, she felt it. Whether it was to prove it to herself that it could be done and she could be cured, or to prove to her brother and his wife that all hope was not lost, she was unsure for which she strived. She justified in the end that it was a little of both.

Her eyes were foggy but she sat up anyway, holding the sheets to her bare torso. The room was a little chilly but residual heat from the bed meant that Éomer could not have gone far. She blinked the last sleep from her eyes and then started searching the room. When her eyes failed her she frowned and then closed her eyes. She'd had an idea the previous day; if she could maintain stolen energy within her person, she thought perhaps she could feel out another's personal energy just as easily at a distance. She concentrated on her memory of Éomer, a strong and capable man, a horse master, and her lover. The tendrils of her energy sought out his, linking them together. She found him, not within the room but just outside. Something must have drawn him away. She latched onto his energy and gave a little mental tug.

She waited a few seconds and then gave another little tug. The door to the chamber opened then and Éomer walked in, looking slightly confused, wearing his trousers and a loose cotton shirt. "What just happened? Was that you?" he asked. He came and sat on the edge of the bed beside her. She moved to be embraced by him, which he obliged.

"I couldn't find you," she said simply.

"Were you afraid I'd gone far?"

She shook her head, nuzzling it under his chin. "No. Who was at the door?"

"Faramir."

"Is anything wrong?" she leaned back then to look at him. "Was he looking for me?"

He smiled at her gently, "Nothing is wrong. He was looking for you, but I told him it should wait since you were still sleeping."

"You could have woken me."

"I could have," he inclined his head. "But then I would have denied myself of this moment with you."

"But I—"

"No," he held a finger to her lips, silencing her excuses. "I know you have things to do, Aranee. I know you have many things on your mind, not the least of which is finding a way to give Arwen back her strength. But for now, I have you here and it will be the two of us. I want you to feel what lies between us first and remember that this is what you have to call yours."

"What do you mean?" she frowned. "Do you think I could forget?"

"Not consciously, no. But I've seen you slip before when something was taken from you. I've known you to build walls. Albeit they were different circumstances, but before you go on this quest of yours, I want you to know you are loved."

Throughout what he was saying he hooded his gaze, looking down, almost unsure of what he was saying and how she would react. He didn't want to push or pull her in any direction. But he had to let her know how he felt. The small link of energy she'd just provided between them was enough of a confirmation of her power over him. She tugged and he came willingly, if uncertain what had been happening. When he saw her though, bedraggled and just waking, he knew that there was nothing he would not do for her. He knew he loved her and he wanted her to know that before anything else happened. Éomer didn't want to be a pessimist—he had every faith in her skills, but life forces had a power all their own. He knew something about the mixing of magic and medicine from his mother and he didn't want Aranee meeting the same fate.

Aranee watched the emotions flicker over his face and after a shiver ran down her spine from the sincerity of his words she took a deep breath and exhaled. She could see the intensity of his eyes and the curve of his lips, the arch of his brow and the profound solidity of his posture. Aranee knew from the beginning he was a man of honor who never said anything he did not mean. But he, like their relationship, was young in comparison to all other things that had happened in her life. She could feel his love for her, the warmth and the wonderful weight. To feel this again was not something she'd expected so soon. She was afraid now. Would this feeling end like it had before?

She watched him and knew that she could not keep him out of her heart forever just as she knew that the only way she'd ever protected herself was to build up a wall around her heart. In all her years she had never encountered this and she fought the urge to pull back. Instead she let herself inhale and exhale, taking in the emotion and holding on tight. She could feel her fluttering heart calm to a steady beating and she held Éomer's gaze for as long as it took for her to know that those walls she was fighting to keep down would never find foundation.

She wanted to thank him for loving her, for breaking down the last reservations that she'd kept hidden. But she couldn't find the words. She wanted to show him, but there was no physical act that would prove as profound as his courage in her. So instead she reached deep down into her being and brought the link between them alive.

She held her hands in front of her, fingers pointing upward, palms facing Éomer. She gave an encouraging smile and nodded for him to do the same. Palm to palm and focusing on the beating of her heart and the unexplainable faith that Éomer had in her, she channeled the energy. She willed it to take corporeal form. A lightning show, like crackling fireworks of blues and greens exploded around their connected hands. She moved her hands back a few inches and she watched as the sparks leapt from his skin to hers. His blue energy, calming and steady wrapped around her green, significant of life and nature.

She looked up at him and saw the awe and wonder in his eyes. The energy stabilized, she took one of her hands covering his and placed it over her heart, mirroring the same over his. Linked together like this the green and blue changed to gold and lit the room with the near-blinding, shimmering light. It was warm and enveloped them.

Letting the light die down Aranee inhaled and exhaled again before falling into Éomer's arms from exhaustion. It might have been foolish to exert herself so selfishly for pure pleasure, knowing that she had very powerful magic to work in the near future, but like Éomer had said, she would not deny herself this time with him. Caught up against Éomer's chest she closed her eyes and took comfort in knowing that he was there.

"You are a wonder," Éomer whispered into her hair.

"I am grateful to you for everything you have done for me," she replied, at last finding the words she had been looking for. Moving back to look at him she continued. "I always distanced myself from people thinking they would be hurt knowing I would far outlive them." His eyes dropped now, hearing the truth of her words but she persevered. "I have lost much in this life by not truly living. I lost the courage for myself, my skill, the belief in all that I could be in this life. You, Éomer, have given that back to me." She leaned forward and kissed him gently on the lips. Her voice dropped to a whisper as she leant against his forehead. "If I die tomorrow, it will not be for lack of belief or courage, because I have you in my life. If I died tomorrow I would have you know that I love you."

He took a deep breath. "You won't die tomorrow," he said firmly. "I won't let you."

"I won't die tomorrow," she smiled, shaking her head in defiance. "I won't leave you alone."

A few moments passed. They were still and calm in one another's arms. Finally, they came out of their reverie when he asked her, "What do you need from me?"

She didn't need to ask 'with what?' She already knew. He wanted to relieve her burden of Arwen's life energy. "I don't know," she responded truthfully. "I need to speak with Ninia. The White Witch will know. I won't risk anyone else in this endeavor. I risked Arwen to save Aragorn. I won't ask any more if I can help it. I don't want anyone else to get hurt."

"Will you let me know if I can be of assistance?" he asked in earnest. This was not him being brave in the face of death, for she knew he'd already fought a hundred battles and waged war against the most dangerous foes for the sake of freeing his land from evil. This was not a king's request; this was a man giving his support to the woman he loved in times of great duress.

Under other circumstances Aranee would have said no, to protect him. But he trusted her and in return she must also disclose her full trust in him. "I will," she promised.

* * *

><p>Aranee went alone to find Faramir. Her body felt heavy and unruly, with a strange discomfort on her shoulders. She was not certain, but she felt that it was the extra energy residing within her, restless, knowing that it was so close to being free. She shrugged it aside and continued on her path.<p>

Éomer told her Faramir was spending the day in the library and she smiled knowing that this was a place of great peace for both her and her friend. Her heart smiled when she thought of Éomer and unconsciously sought out his energy. When she found it, instead of tugging, she embraced him and in her mind's eye she could see him smile and return the embrace. It was comforting to know that even apart they could still be together.

This thought brought Aragorn and Arwen back to her mind. If all things went well with the transference of energy, Aranee hoped to give the same power to her brother and his wife, and his son if at all possible. She knew the disconnect he and Arwen were feeling. It was familiar and not a feeling she would wish on anyone.

She pushed through the door of the library and walked through the dusty shelves, past tomes and scrolls and scribes with their heads bent over pale parchment with ink and pen. This is where the knowledge of her family resided, and she took additional comfort in knowing her family was expanding now to include Éomer and Éowyn as well.

She turned to a well-known alcove with a window seat to find Faramir sitting there, books scattered around him as he lounged lazily back against the wall, tome open on his knees and sun blazing in behind him. His brow was furrowed as he read.

"Puzzled? Or simply frustrated because you cannot read Elvish, dear one?" she teased, announcing her arrival and noting the title of the book he was frowning at.

"'Nee, you are ever so infuriating in your jesting manner," he replied, setting the book aside and shuffling books aside for her to sit.

"Am I?" she asked, sitting down, touching the leather bindings of the books as she did. "Would you like my help? Why are you reading that?"

He shook his head, "At the behest of Aragorn, actually."

"Aragorn?" Aranee frowned. "I wonder why he did not look into this himself…" she took the book from his knees and flipped through the pages, her eyes skimming over the ancient text, deciphering it quickly and efficiently. "Do you know what this book is about?"

The left side of his mouth hitched slightly in amusement, "Do I look like an elf?"

Quirking her eyebrow in equal amusement she replied, "Not in the slightest. Despite your height, your eyes are nowhere near blue enough."

His grey-blue eyes narrowed at her, noting her sarcasm, "Are you going to translate it for me, or have you just come to poke fun at me?"

"Strange that the King would get his advisor to go through books that the king could read himself, isn't it? Aragorn would know what this says far better than you or I. Was this why you came to see me earlier?"

"I assure you, this was not the intention. Aragorn does not even know I have collected these books," he gestured to the pile.

"What did he ask you to do then?" she asked, frowning. She turned the book over, knowing very well what the contents were and then back to Faramir. Had he just pulled this tome off the shelf at random?

"He made it clear that he was worried about Arwen. He would have consulted Lord Elrond, had he been nearer. But as it is, Lord Elrond is set to depart for the Grey Havens very soon and his farewell to Arwen in her fragile state may prove disastrous on both counts. I have very little knowledge of why Aragorn asked this of me, of all people, but I think it was more to do with my outsider's perspective." Faramir shrugged.

"You're not an outsider!" Aranee protested.

"By the standards to match everything that the others have been through with Aragorn and my small involvement towards the end of the war and the beginning of his reign, to him, I am still new and therefore not as involved. I can view these items with an objective eye and not get too emotionally attached because I know Arwen the least."

It was strange logic, but Aranee guessed it made a small amount of sense. Aragorn would not want to worry his friends. He knew that they were preoccupied with other matters. He was also aware that Faramir had other matters on his mind, but as the Captain of the Guard and Prince of Ithilien, these were matters of protection, and that made them Faramir's concern.

"I can understand that," Aranee conceded. "These books will not help Arwen though." She had not confessed her plans in detail to Faramir yet and this seemed an ideal time. "I will Heal her, Faramir."

He frowned and closed the book on his lap. "How are you going to do that?"

"I need to push her energy back into her spirit. That is what is wasting away and what has Aragorn so worried. Her life force was drained. She is Elven which means that it should have affected her less but it turned out to be the opposite and affected her more. In our efforts to save Aragorn, I locked on to an energy source not my own in order to find the power to dive that deep. The poison had driven him so far from the surface that I needed more and so without thinking, I took it. From Arwen."

"But how will you force this energy back? Do you even know how that works?"

Aranee nodded her head from side to side. "I know a little. But not everything. I even experimented with my own life energy this morning."

"What?" he looked shocked at the idea. "With who?"

"Éomer. He said and did things that needed more than just simple words of thanks. The moment warranted a physical declaration of my feelings for him. So with a concentrated effort I exchanged our energies and created a physical manifestation of them. It was really quite beautiful."

Faramir was still shocked and could not comprehend what she was describing. She knew that she was going to have to demonstrate to him as well, this power she was able to control. "Just watch."

She held out her hands, palms up. "Put your hands over top of mine, but don't touch me," she told him. He set aside the book and did just that. "From this small connection, my knowledge of you and your aura, and how I am deeply connected with you in life, I am going to attempt to create an energy circle."

This new magic was making her tremble but she kept a calm face. She was very unfamiliar with this magic and unsure how exactly it would react with some people, but she had to have faith that this was the right direction to be going. She had a task to do and the more people who stood behind her with their support would enable her to complete the task before her.

She then began to channel the energy from Faramir's right hand to her left hand below it, up through her left arm and across her chest, down her right arm and up through her palm and jumping across the small space of air between their hands, back into his left hand. She linked herself to him in that small alcove and once drawing the energy, feeling it flow through her like warm water with a light airy feeling to it, she brought the energy to life with a colour she picked at random. Silver. Silver reminded her of her relationship with Faramir in that it was symbolic of subtle strength. With him, she had always found herself a stronger person but flexible enough to be molded into someone better. Other symbolic meanings for silver were clarity, awareness, persistence, vision and strength, which were qualities that she had always sought after with Faramir.

The silver energy snapped and cracked between them and once the concentration had been gained where she could cease her intense focus she looked up to see how he was reacting to the phenomenon.

He was staring at her, his eyes blazing with the reflection of the silver ring she had created. She breathed in and out again and the manifestation of their connection detached, instead of flowing directly through them, as a never-ending circle surrounding them. It swirled faster and faster and Aranee found that she didn't need to exert copious amounts of energy anymore to keep the circle unbroken. The speed diminished as she thought these words and her breathing calmed. She could feel the vibration for the circle, the connection with Faramir embodied and separate. This was confirmation that theirs was a connection that was far different from hers and Éomer's. With Éomer, Aranee felt that she would always have to be touching him for this physical manifestation to work properly. With Faramir though, their support and love for one another was not based on touch, but years of trust. He brought strength and clarity to her even at a distance.

The circle had all but halted its spinning. She took the moment to divide her attentions and ask Faramir, "It is not what you expected, is it?"

"What more can you do?" He was wary and slightly afraid. Aranee could understand his apprehension and she had an idea. She wanted the manifestation to last.

She moved her palms away from under his and the circle continued around them. She put her hands on either side of her, palms still up, and beneath the edges of the circle she pushed and compressed it, molding it smaller and smaller as she lifted it over her head at the same time. Now the size of a dinner plate, the circle was in both her hands before her, malleable and easily shaped into whatever she desired. She could feel a pulse beneath the silver and she imagined being able to twist it in the middle to create two circles connected at one side. Bringing it down before her as she envisioned it, it happened before her eyes. Now two circles she continued to compress the connection and when they were the size of two rings she froze it. The connection ceased to spin and vibrate and suddenly fell into her upturned hands as two solid, but separate, silver rings, one bigger and one smaller.

She held them up to the sunlight, completely in awe of her newfound power. It was completely natural and yet so unknown. She smiled up at Faramir and held out one of the rings for him to take. "In that ring," she said as he took it, "is you and I, our connection, forty years of love and dedication."

"Perfect silver," he whispered, slipping it over the middle finger of his right hand. "Perfect fit. This is what you can do? This is what you have to do for Arwen?"

She similarly slipped her ring onto her finger and shrugged, moving the tomes back into her lap for a more substantial tie back to reality. "It will be more complicated than that. I'm almost afraid that I need a connection with the person I'm healing to do anything of value. Yes I can produce these colours and trinkets for you and Éomer, but I do not know Arwen. My link is with Aragorn. Do I have to explain that to him to cure her? Do I need his help to do this?"

Faramir's hand reached out to take hers, the reassuring comfort of their touch renewing that connection and that strength. "Would that be such a bad thing?"

"It might." It was time to voice her fears and to do this she knew that Faramir was the only one who might take the knowledge as an equal. Éomer and Éowyn knew her secret but they had not known her for decades. She had grown up with Faramir, grown into herself. He would know what to say. "What if I tell him and he refuses my help? I would have to tell him the reason for Arwen's weariness, that it was my fault, and then what? Would he welcome me; would he even let me near her? I mean her no harm, but I know him. He is blood. He would do anything to protect those he loves from danger. At in that moment, that danger would be me?"

She brushed her fingers over the book in her lap taking comfort in the solid pages and familiar, yet ancient words. "If I tell Aragorn then, and explain I need that same connection to heal her, I would have to explain how I was linked to him. And my secret would not be hidden any longer. Am I ready for that kind of transparency?"

"'Nee, you're asking the wrong questions."

She frowned. "What do you mean?"

"You're asking how he will react, if _you_ are ready for that. But what if he pulls even further away if Arwen isn't healed? You can't risk telling him but I know that deep down you don't want to lose him again. If you let Arwen die because of your fears and because of your pride, then you will lose him forever. There is something you can do to remedy this, and it will haunt you forever if you do nothing."

Aranee looked out the window over the city as he spoke, feeling each word strike at her heart and in the pit of her stomach, each a rock of truth that made her heavy with fear. Aragorn _was_ her brother and when she met him all those months ago, she knew it was fear keeping her from telling him. Now she would have to push that fear aside to save him again.

Faramir continued speaking. "You overcome every obstacle, Aranee. You fell only to find a greater truth within yourself. This magic," he held up his newly ringed hand gripping her own, "is where your journey has brought you. Eighty years in the making, every event and every choice you have made has brought these connections closer. Like a spider's web you have a network of friends and family whom love you and with you at the centre, the hub of that wheel, it is you that they cannot survive without. Will you let your fears take that away from you?"

She fought the tears but could not keep them dammed up and with a blink of her eyelids they spilled over and she knew he spoke the truth. She pushed the book aside and reached for him. Arms wrapping around his neck, she closed her eyes, crying, and could see the web he described and exactly how each link fit together. If she did not conquer this fear, she would lose those who meant the most to her. In that, she was far more like her brother than she ever considered.

"'Nee," Faramir whispered into her ear, smoothing her hand down her back with his hand, "You are not alone. And as long as you have the power to change and to heal, you will never be lonely, not while you have family standing to support you."

She nodded her head, arms still locked around his neck. She knew what she needed to do. She could not delay any longer. It was time for her to meet her fears head-on and to right the wrongs she had inflicted. She unlocked her arms and leaned back to rest her forehead against his. "I need your help."

Faramir smiled. "Whatever you need, it is yours."


End file.
